


Peppermint Wind

by morganoconner



Series: Peppermint Wind [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-10
Updated: 2010-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:11:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 25,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean wants to adopt a war orphan, Gabriel decides he'd make an awesome dad, and they discover together how much can change in the course of a single year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prequel - If You Are a Dreamer

It was pure chance that had them passing through Salvation, Iowa six months after the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t. But once they were there, Sam didn’t want to leave without checking in on the Holt family.

Looking at them in the playground from where he was seated in his car, Dean could admit that he was glad his brother had thought of it. It was a rare chance to get to see one of the families they had saved over the years, and Rosie had a special place in their hearts, having been pulled from Azazel’s fire just like Sam.

So he watched with a small smile while Sam went over and re-introduced himself to Monica, watched the dawning recognition pass over her face just before she pulled him into a tight hug. He watched Rosie swinging on the swing set with her bright, happy laugh, pigtails swinging in the breeze.

“Y’know, you could always go and say hi yourself.”

Dean started violently, then cursed himself for never failing to be surprised when random angels showed up in his passenger seat. “What, Heaven too boring for you today?” he asked with an eyeroll.

“Heaven’s too boring for me _every_ day,” Gabriel replied, taking a large bite of the Twizzlers he held in his hand. “Why do you think I keep popping in to bug you?”

“I just thought it was my charming personality that drew you back so often.” Dean smirked over at the archangel, and then laughed out loud when Gabriel grabbed the collar of his jacket and tugged him into a hard kiss.

“One of these days, Winchester, that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble,” Gabriel said when he pulled back after a few seconds.

“Like it hasn’t already?” Dean’s bottle-green eyes glinted with amusement.

Scowling, Gabriel looked back out at the playground. “Stop trying to change the subject,” he grumped. “Why didn’t you go over with your brother? You saved that family just as much as he did.”

Dean shrugged a little uncomfortably. “Me and little kids just never mesh well.”

Gabriel’s eyes were sharp. “Liar. I’ve watched you long enough to know you get along great with kids. Almost as good as me.”

Dean couldn’t have stopped the snort of incredulous laughter even if he’d wanted to. “You. And kids? I would pay to see that.”

“I’m offended!” Gabriel said, not looking anything of the sort as he took another bite of his candy. “Kids are _awesome._ ” Dean’s expression didn’t change, and Gabriel huffed. “Fine. Guess I’ll have to prove it.”

“Oh, wait, Gabriel –”

Dean’s protest, of course, had no effect. Gabriel’s hand grasped his arm, there was the snap of fingers, and Dean was suddenly standing in the dusty playground, watching as Gabriel sauntered over and dropped down on the swing next to Rosie’s. Off to the side, he saw Monica make a startled inquiry and Sam calm her with a few quick words. When Sam looked over at him, Dean shrugged helplessly and took a few steps toward the errant archangel, till he was within earshot.

“Heya, kid.”

The five-year-old looked over with a curious grin. “Hi!” she chirped. “Who are you?”

“Ah, I’m a friend of your mom’s friend over there,” Gabriel replied, nodding toward Monica and Sam.

Rosie looked over, and when she caught sight of them watching her, she waved happily to her mother before looking back at the archangel. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Well, I go by lots of names. But because you’re special, how bout you call me Gabe?”

She giggled. “Kay. Hi Gabe! My name is Rosie. Wanna play with me in the sandbox?”

Dean caught the smirk Gabriel sent his way before he looked back at Rosie and replied with all the solemnity a Trickster could manage, “I would love to play with you in the sandbox, Rosie.”

Dean continued to watch with a growing sense of disbelief as Gabriel and Rosie made their way over to the sandbox, the archangel plopping down next to the child as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Rosie picked up a bucket and began to fill it with the careful intensity of a five-year-old, making sure not a single grain of sand she picked up fell back onto the ground instead of into the bucket.

Gabriel reached out, silently asking if he could see the bucket, and she acquiesced with a small frown. He took it from her, glanced inside, shaking it to shift the sand around a little. Then he gave her a very Trickster-worthy grin that made her giggle. “Watch,” he said, and began to pour the sand back into the sandbox.

Rosie watched with wide eyes as it began to pile, then shift and reform, then grow, until she was sitting in front of a sand castle that was taller than she was and glittered in the sunlight. “Wow,” she breathed, standing up and pressing a hand gently to the wall of the castle. It held solid and her smile grew very wide. “Wow, Gabe!” Now she was squealing.

“Yep,” he said from where he was still sitting, leaning back on his hands. “A pretty castle made for a beautiful princess.” He snapped his fingers, and she was suddenly dressed in a frilly pink gown and sparkly tiara. Her laughter was bright and wondrous as she clapped gleefully.

Dean chanced a quick look over at Monica and took in her wide eyes and the hand pressed to her mouth. Next to her, Sam was shaking his head in resignation, getting his explanations ready.

Looking back at Gabriel, Dean was unsurprised to see the archangel grinning at him. Gabriel stood up and leaned down to whisper something to Rosie. She hugged him tightly around his waist, and when she pulled back, he was holding an ice cream cone, which he handed to her with flourish before stepping out and ambling over to the hunter, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans as he whistled.

“So you’ve proven…some point, I suppose,” Dean said, crossing his arms and watching Rosie run over to her mother and start jumping up and down excitedly.

“Two points, actually.” Gabriel’s hand was steady on his lower back as he turned Dean and began steering him back to the Impala. “The first is that you are actually allowed to come back to these places and find out for sure that the people you’ve helped are safe and happy. It won’t automatically mean the start of another apocalypse, seeing some of the good you two chuckleheads managed to do over the years.”

Dean ducked his head to hide his flush, because it sucked that Gabriel could read him that well, and he was never going to get used to it. “And the second point?” he asked warily.

Gabriel’s eyes were golden in the bright sunlight, his grin annoyingly attractive. “That when you finally talk to me about adopting one of the war orphans like you’ve been wanting to do for weeks, I’m going to tell you it’s a great idea based on the fact that I will _clearly_ make an awesome dad.”


	2. Polish the Stars

They didn’t really discuss it again. Dean let the shock of it, the _desire_ for it, roll off his shoulders almost right after Gabriel left that day, and they went back to the routine that had developed since the apocalypse had been averted, with Gabriel micromanaging the heavenly duties he shared with Castiel, keeping the remaining Trickster gods in line, and visiting Dean whenever time permitted, while Dean and Sam went back on the road and on toward the next hunt. As far as Dean could tell, the conversation was forgotten.

The failed apocalypse had left its mark upon the earth, and even a year later, it was impossible to go almost anywhere without seeing some sign of it scarred into a town, etched into the foundations of homes and schools and families.

Detroit was one of the worst places. Hoards of demons had spread out over the city while the battle was taking place on another side of the country. They’d tried to lay waste to it, and had very nearly succeeded. If God hadn’t brought Gabriel back when he did, _where_ he did… Dean didn’t know if anyone would have survived.

But it still wasn’t pretty, and Sam and Dean found themselves there too often, keeping tabs on the place because supernatural entities were drawn there like magnets. This latest job, an infestation of particularly nasty poltergeists, had left them exhausted and sore, and Dean was ready to drop and just sleep for the next week.

Sam was already back at the motel, looking for their next job while Dean tied up a few loose ends with the survivors. He was getting ready to head back when he passed by an alley near where the Impala was parked and heard the whimpering. He stopped short, hand already moving to where the gun rested against the small of his back as he stared down into the darkness.

The sound came again, louder and more intense, and he was already moving forward before he could think twice about it, years of instinct coming to the fore as he stalked down the alley, pistol cocked and held in an expert grip. There was almost no light, except for the smattered patches of moonlight that hit the ground at odd angles and made the surrounding darkness somehow even blacker.

A quiet scuffle sounded to his left, and he spun, pointing his gun, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He thought he could make out a small form huddled next to the dumpster, and he took a step forward warily.

The figure made a terrified sound and _bolted_ , and may have gotten away except that Dean was faster, and his arm had reached out and snagged the figure before it even had a chance to get far.

The _person_ , he could feel now, his arm wrapped tightly around their waist as he restrained them, and judging by the size and weight, not much more than a pretty small kid.

Small, but feisty, because the elbow in his gut definitely didn’t feel _good_.

“Hey,” he growled, clamping tighter around the kid. “ _Hey_ , calm the hell down, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Lemme go, lemme go you bastard!”

Young, but tough, he thought. That sort of quality didn’t enter into a kid’s voice unless they were living a hell of a rough life. He recognized it. He’d heard it often enough, from himself, a hundred years ago.

“I’m gonna let you go, all right, just hang on. Jesus _Christ_ , kid.” He could see pretty well now, enough to make out that it was a boy, and that he was probably around nine or ten. Wearing dingy clothes that hadn’t seen a washing machine in weeks, with greasy hair and a filthy face and eyes that gleamed angrily in the dimly lit alley.

Dean tucked the gun back into the waistband of his jeans and very slowly relaxed his hold, ready to grab again if the kid tried to run.

The kid, though, seemed to be too unsure to do much more than stand there looking wary and frightened, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared at up at Dean. “Whaddya want? I ain’t got nothin’ to steal.”

“And I ain’t a thief,” Dean responded. “I came down here because I heard something, thought someone might be in trouble. Found you instead.”

The boy’s look turned even more suspicious. “Only people who go lookin’ for people in alleys are superheroes.”

Dean smirked, gave a little shrug as he relaxed his stance deliberately.

“You ain’t no superhero,” the kid scoffed.

“Nah, you’re right,” Dean admitted with an easy grin. “But I still like to help people. You don’t need to be a hero for that. What’s your name?”

There was a long hesitation, but the kid was skinny, probably starving, and desperate. His shoulders sagged and he stared sullenly at the ground. “Conner.”

Dean crouched down a little, kept his tone even. “Conner, where are your parents?”

Every line in the kid’s body tensed, and Dean heard something catch in his throat. A strangled sob tore out of him, and before Dean knew what he was doing, he’d reached out and pressed a hand to Conner’s shoulder, squeezing softly, steadying him. “They…the black smoke…and their eyes went all funny…and Meggy told me to run, and I did, and…and…”

 _And they never came back. They never came to find him_. Dean’s eyes closed, his heart shattering all over again for the devastation Lucifer had unleashed here. “Conner, you got anywhere else to go?”

The kid turned away again, his eyes wet. Dean’s heart was pounding. What the hell did he think he was doing? Sam was going to kill him, _Gabriel_ was going to kill him…

“You hungry, kid?”

The look Conner turned on him was so full of broken hope, so full of shattered innocence, that Dean decided then and there he didn’t care.


	3. Maybe in Another World

“That’s a kid, Dean,” Sam said when Conner was in the shower. Like he was pointing out something Dean wasn’t already aware of.

“Yes, Sam, that’s a kid,” Dean agreed, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. _Your point?_

“Dean, you can’t just pick up a stray kid and bring him home with you!” Sam cried, flailing his arms a little. “It’s not like taking in a stray dog!”

“Gee, ya think?” Dean rolled his eyes. “What was I supposed to do, leave him out there to starve? Or get killed, or beaten, or –”

“No,” Sam cut in. “No, of course not, but you didn’t bring him here just to get him off the streets till you can find a place to drop him off. You _brought_ him here to stay. I know that look.”

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair distractedly as he glanced at the closed bathroom door. “Look, he’s got nowhere to go. His family’s dead – demons – and God only knows how long he’s been on the streets. He doesn’t deserve just to be _dropped off_ somewhere, and he doesn’t strike me as the type of kid that would handle that great anyway.”

“This isn’t the first time we’ve come across a kid orphaned by the war,” Sam reminded him. “And you’ve always let them go into police hands until they can be placed into foster care, or with other family members. What makes this one different?”

Dean shook his head, making a frustrated sound under his breath. “I don’t know. I don’t know, but damn it, Sam, I just…”

Sam studied him for a long time before he finally nodded. “Okay. It’s your call. Well, and Gabriel’s probably, and remind me to not be here when he gets back. But Dean, keep in mind that being on the road, hunting…. It’s not a good life for a kid. You know that better than anyone.”

Dean grit his teeth and didn’t answer.


	4. A Piece of Sky

It took Gabriel three days to come back. Three days in which Dean was able to take Conner shopping – using stolen credit cards, of course – for clothes that weren’t ratty and falling apart at the seams. Three days in which Sam discovered Conner’s ability to devour books, and smirked at Dean for several hours after Dean rolled his eyes despairingly. Three days in which the Winchesters were able to provide hearty meals for a kid who looked like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

Three days in which Conner didn’t ask why they were living out of a motel room or what they did for a living, and in return Dean didn’t ask for details about his life before the apocalypse.

Three days in which Conner could have run away, and didn’t.

In hindsight, Dean maybe should have mentioned his angelic counterpart to the kid, but he hadn’t considered Gabriel’s habit of making an entrance, and by the time he did consider it, he already had a lapful of archangel.

Dean flailed a little. “Gabriel – mph!”

And, okay, normally this was the point where he’d give up trying to shove the archangel away from him and just enjoy the ride, but that really wouldn’t be a good idea with the kid across the room.

He managed to wedge his hand between them and gave one good shove, and Gabriel toppled backwards. He vanished before he could hit the ground, reappearing a few feet away and pouting.

Conner was gaping silently, and Dean waved a hand at him, glaring at the archangel. “Gabriel, this is Conner. Conner, meet Gabriel.” He grimaced. “Sorry you had to see that, kid. Guy’s got no manners at all.”

The gaping didn’t stop, and Gabriel’s head was tilted to the side as he regarded Conner in open curiosity. When he turned back to Dean, he had an eyebrow raised, and Dean shook his head.

“Um.” Conner was sitting cross-legged on Sam’s bed, an open book on his lap that he shut very carefully. “I can…I can go. I mean.”

“What? No!” Dean was already standing, striding across the room to – gently – cuff the kid upside the head. “Told you you had a place here, didn’t I? Long as you wanted it. Stop being an idiot.”

Conner glared as he rubbed the back of his head, but there was genuine relief in his eyes too. Gabriel’s eyebrow slid higher when Dean glanced over at him.

The hunter counted his blessings when Sam chose that moment to come out of the bathroom. His brother took one look at Gabriel and changed direction to head for Conner. “Hey Conner, bet it’s been a while since you’ve seen a movie, huh?”

Hesitantly, Conner nodded, his eyes still siliding to Gabriel and then darting away again quickly.

Sam smiled, that smile that instantly put everyone around him at ease, had them spilling their darkest secrets, and made women fall to their knees for him. He held out a hand. “C’mon. Heard there was a new one out. Aliens on the moon or something. It’ll be fun.”

The kid shot a glance at Dean, like he was waiting for permission, and damn if that small gesture didn’t make Dean’s gut clench. He managed a smirk. “Yeah, you should probably go or Sammy’ll eat ‘em out of popcorn entirely. Be a shame if someone wasn’t there to stop him.”

It took Sam and Conner no time at all to leave, and when the door finally closed behind them, Dean braced himself before facing Gabriel again.

“Cute kid,” the archangel said mildly.

“Gabe…”

“I’d have appreciated some forewarning, mind you, maybe some say in the first kid we decided to adopt, but overall, guess I can’t complain too much. He seems reasonably house-trained.” Gabriel’s grin was slow and easy, and made Dean let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Are you –”

“Dean, if you ask me if I’m sure, I’m gonna have to do something drastically mean, like hit you.” Gabriel shook his head, laughing. “You’re practically head over heels for the kid already. And I agreed to this months ago, remember?”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “Doubt this is what you expected to come back to though.”

Gabriel was suddenly right in front of him, tugging Dean’s hand away and holding onto it while amber eyes locked onto jade. “If I had a problem with this…if I didn’t want it…you’d know, trust me. Believe it or not, Winchester, I like the idea of us being a family. Having a kid to spoil rotten. It’ll be fun.” He grinned again, eyes glinting.

“I’m going to have to stop hunting,” Dean said slowly. “I don’t like the idea of letting Sam do it himself, but…”

Gabriel nodded. “And I’m gonna have to take a…leave of absence, from upstairs. Shouldn’t be a problem, Castiel practically does all the work anyway. He’ll probably be grateful.” At Dean’s surprised look, he scowled. “Oh, what, you think I’m about to let you take this on by yourself? Family, Dean.”

The smile was tugged from him helplessly, and he squeezed Gabriel’s hand as he leaned down to kiss him. His free hand tangled in the archangel’s hair, and when he finally pulled away, it was only far enough that he was resting his forehead against the smaller man’s. “We really gonna do this?” he murmured.

Gabriel kissed him again, quick and easy, grinning widely. “Yep. You get to talk to the kid while I go talk to my bro. I’ll be back by tomorrow. We can start shopping for a home then.”

He winked, and was gone with the sound of wingbeats while Dean was left staring, his mind buzzing.

A home. Gabriel wanted a home with him, and a family. When had his life started being this good?

When he glanced down at his hand and saw the small Enochian sigils tattood around his left ring finger, he laughed in disbelief, completely happy for the first time he could clearly remember.


	5. All the Magic I Have Known

Dean looked up when Sam and Conner came through the door, Sam gesturing wildly, Conner smirking up at him while dumping some leftover sour patch kids into his hand. Figured the kid liked the sour candy. Gabriel was gonna have a fit. It was probably the only type of candy the archangel _didn’t_ go for.

“Hey, you two manage to have enough brain cells between you to grab dinner?” Dean asked, shaking his head with resignation when Sam only blinked at him. He stood and walked to the door, nodding for Conner to follow him. “C’mon kid, you and I’ll go grab some burgers, leave Samantha home to knit for a while.”

“’Kay I guess,” Conner replied with a shrug, but he looked…nervous.

Dean kind of hated that.

They got into the Impala, and Dean grit his teeth a little, bracing himself. “Got some tapes under the seat, or you can pick whatever on the radio.”

Conner picked up the box with a bored expression, rifling through it halfheartedly. After a few seconds though, his head was tilted, and he was actually _looking_ at the tapes he was picking through. Finally, his eyes landed on one that had him awestruck. “ _Dude_ , you have the Black album?”

Dean blinked… Metallica wasn’t exactly a hard find, last he checked. Still… “You got good taste,” he grinned. “Knew I liked you for a reason.” He snatched it, pressed it into the tape deck.

“My parents _never_ let me listen to Metallica!”

It took five seconds before Conner’s face froze, then fell. His hands clutched tightly at the box as he fought to hold himself together, and Dean’s heart broke all over again. He reached over and grasped Conner’s shoulder for a moment before pulling away and shifting the car into drive.

It was another few minutes before he spoke again without looking over at Conner. “My dad loved Metallica, but I made him play it so much he couldn’t stand it after a while.”

Conner looked up, eyes shining. “Yeah? What about now?”

Dean glanced at him, one corner of his mouth pulling up sadly. “He’s wherever your mom and dad are, I guess. Hell, they’re probably up there drinking beer together and yelling at me for corrupting you.”

It was a shadow of a smile that Conner gave him, and it wobbled fiercely, but it was something.

“So, listen, kid,” Dean started as he pulled up to a stoplight.

Conner sighed. “Lemme guess, you want me to get lost.”

Dean looked at him sharply. “The hell? Why would you think that?”

Shrugging, Conner turned his gaze to his lap. “Figured your…boyfriend, or whatever gave you shit about letting me hang around.”

The light turned green, and Dean turned abruptly into an empty lot, parking the car and turning to face Conner. “All right, first off, Gabriel ain’t my… _boyfriend_.” He shuddered a little. “He’s my…husband." God, that still felt weird to say. "Sammy tell you about him at all?”

“Said he was an angel.” Conner scoffed. “Like I’m a stupid little kid who’d fall for that.”

“Partially right, anyway. He’s an archangel.” Dean smirked at Conner’s wide-eyed disbelief. “C’mon kid, you saw him appear out of thin air.”

Those azure eyes went abruptly shuttered. “Saw that before, and they weren’t no angels.”

Dean’s eyes closed and he took a breath, berating himself. “Gabriel’s one of the good guys, Conner, I promise,” he finally said. “And he’s the last person who would want you to get lost. Actually, that’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about.” Conner’s gaze slowly slid back to him, fragile and lost, and Dean took a breath. “Me and Gabriel’ve been talkin’ about…getting a place together. Long-term. Me, I’ve been on the road almost my whole life, and he…doesn’t really fit in great upstairs. We’re thinking a small house…’small’ being relative, knowing him…backyard, decent neighborhood. And…it’d be cool if you came to stay with us.”

Dean held his gaze as Conner bit his lip, as his eyes watered. “You…really?” he asked in a tiny voice.

Dean nodded. “Gabriel can finagle a formal adoption, make it legal and everything. No fear that the authorities are gonna come stick you in foster care.” He paused, swallowed. “Conner, we don’t want to replace your parents, but…we’ve seen a lotta bad shit in the world. It’d be nice to see something _good_ for a change. So…if you want a place to stay…it’s yours.”

Conner hesitated. “Am I gonna have to like, do chores and stuff?”

Dean huffed. “Damn straight you are. You’re lucky, I’ll make sure you get an allowance though.”

Another pause. “How’d you and Gabriel meet, anyway? If he’s an angel…archangel…whatever?”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Kid, the first time I met that bastard, he tried to off me with a chainsaw-wielding psychopath and two killing machines masquerading as hot babes,” Dean said with something he couldn’t decide if it was a grimace or a smirk. “He’s come a long way since then.”

“Umm.” Conner gulped, and Dean laughed outright.

“Promise, he’s not gonna set any psycho killers on you just for forgetting to clean your room. He’s…he really is a good guy. Saved my life, and Sammy’s. More’n once.”

Conner took this in, eyes catching on Dean’s ring finger, and the mark he kept forgetting now rested there. “You really love him?”

Anyone else, and Dean would be bitching about chick-flick moments, and changing the subject as fast as possible. “Yeah, kid. I really do.”

“My…. Mom and Dad loved each other. I used to think it was gross, but…it’s better bein’ around people who care about each other, than the ones who don’t give a shit at all, huh?”

 _Oh, kid_ … “I think that’s probably true.”

“I’d…” Shy now, blue eyes rising again. “Can I stay?”

Dean nodded, smiled reassuringly. Restarted the car when Conner looked away with a light flush on his face, his lips quirking even as his eyes filled again. Let Metallica blare through the speakers to block the sounds of the sniffling boy in the passenger seat.

Dean knew what it was to need to cry, and not want anyone to see.


	6. Let's Go Live in a Treehouse

Gabriel had wanted to transport them to whatever secret project he’d been working on for the past two weeks, but Conner was still hesitant around the archangel, and besides that, Dean still preferred his baby over Air Angel. So they drove, Gabriel in the front seat giving directions, Conner curled up in the back, reading or napping depending on the time of day and the mileage they covered.

Sam had opted to stay behind, and Dean was doing his damndest not to feel like something was missing. His baby brother would be fine, and it was time for them to get separate lives, and he _knew_ that, damn it, but it still sucked.

It was late morning on the third day of driving that Gabriel piped up with, “Right up here.”

Dean slanted a look at him. “That goes off into the forest.”

Shrugging, Gabriel offered Dean a smirk. “You wanted to drive. Besides, it’s still a road…unpaved, but I doubt it’ll ruin your precious car, and we’re not going in far.”

Giving the archangel another suspicious look, Dean nevertheless complied with his directions, turning onto the dirt road that led through a nice, sunlight-dappled forested area. Homes dotted the landscape every few hundred yards, set off from the main road, each one it’s own private haven. They got farther and farther apart the further in they went, and by the time Dean had been driving for three miles, it had been a while since the last one he’d seen.

Until the road ended, and the only way he could turn was into a new driveway, one that led up to a house that blended in so well with the forest that made up its home, it was like it wasn’t there at all.

Or maybe that was a bit of Trickster magic as well, because when Dean finally pulled up to the large house, there was no way he could ever overlook something like that. He put the car into park in a daze, gaping.

Two story log cabin. A multi-gabled roof. Balconies off every second-story window. A wraparound porch set on cobbled stone pillars, which matched the stone of the chimney. Large pane-glass windows.

It was _beautiful_.

But more than that was the instant feeling of _home_ that settled over him as he stared at it.

“You like?” Gabriel asked, fairly bouncing with excitement. From the backseat, Conner’s head popped up from his book, and in the rearview mirror, Dean could see his eyes widen.

“Gabriel…what is this?” Dean asked, his voice oddly hoarse.

The archangel pouted. “I thought that woulda been obvious. It’s…home. I mean, if you like it. I didn’t have much to go on, and lemme tell you, throwing together a house like this _and_ making it legal, all within two weeks? Not easy.” He turned toward the backseat. “How ‘bout you Conner? What do you think?”

Judging by the way he couldn’t stop staring, Dean was fairly sure Conner was in a state of shocked awe. Dean thought he might be himself, and _he_ at least _knew_ what the archangel was capable of.

“You built me a log cabin,” he said in disbelief.

“Well… _built_ is sort of stretching it. I mean, there was some finger-snapping, and getting it perfect took time, but I – _mmph!_ ” Dean shut Gabriel up the best way he knew how…by tugging him forward by his jacket and clamping his mouth over the archangel’s.

He could practically _hear_ the eyeroll from the backseat, and he pulled away with a loud smack, laughing as he turned back to look at the house. “Can we go up?”

And now Conner was _vibrating_ , which Dean knew the kid would never admit to.

“Well, I sure hope so, since it is _ours_ ,” Gabriel replied, smirking. “There’s real documented paperwork and everything, which states quite clearly this home belongs to Dean and Gabriel Winchester. That was _after_ , of course, I made sure your records showed that you were both alive and _not_ wanted by the feds, and after I got the adoption papers finalized and filed. This whole thing is about as legal as it can get as far as humanity is concerned, and sanctified by Heaven, _and_ protected by three different kinds of Trickster magic. Friends in high places and all that.”

Conner seemed to take all of this in stride, though his face dimmed a little at the mention of the adoption. Still, he returned Dean’s concerned gaze with a tilted grin, and then those bright blue eyes went again to the house and he bit his lip, giving another small bounce as excitement took over again.

Dean laughed again. “C’mon kid, let’s go see what other surprises Gabriel has in store for us inside.”

“ _Yes!_ ” Conner whooped, pumping one small fist in the air before _leaping_ out of the car.

Gabriel let out a low whistle as they watched Conner sprint the rest of the way up the driveway and take the stairs two at a time up to the porch. “You sure we got the _energy_ for this kid?” the archangel asked with a raised eyebrow. His smile, though, was soft, and his amber eyes were sparkling with genuine warmth.

They got out of the car and followed Conner at a more sedate pace. At one point, Dean slanted another glance over at Gabriel and gave a half-smile. “So. Gabriel Winchester, huh?”

Gabriel stuck his tongue out, making Dean let loose another bark of laughter. The archangel stopped them just as they reached the porch, tugging on Dean’s arm to turn the hunter toward him. “Seriously. This...it's all...it's okay, right?”

Dean traced the archangel’s face with his palm, grin stretching wide across his face. “This is more than okay,” he assured him. “This is damn near perfect.”

“ _C’mon_ guys! Be mushy later!” Conner whined, petulant and impatient and Dean thought, yeah, that was kind of perfect too.


	7. When We Turn Off the Light

Dean may have stopped actively hunting for the sake of the little family he’d become a part of, but that didn’t mean he could’ve left his old life behind completely, any more than Gabriel could have gotten entirely away from his past as an archangel-slash-pagan-god.

Now, Dean found himself putting case files together. He’d track down the suspicious deaths, do the research, talk to witnesses over the phone. He was getting good at having the full file put together, the whole damn case pretty much solved, before passing the info along to Bobby, and letting Bobby use his contacts to find the closest hunter to the job.

It was a good system so far, and it kept him busy. He didn’t think he was exactly cut out for the nine-to-five life, and it wasn’t like they technically _needed_ for anything with Gabriel around, but just hanging around the house all day would have gotten very old, very quickly. Even _with_ a kid to look after.

And at least this way, he was still helping people.

Finishing up a case file was what he’d been doing tonight, and when he glanced at the clock and realized how late it was, he cringed. If he managed to crash now, he’d be lucky to get maybe five hours of sleep before Sam was due to show up in the morning. It had been over a week since they’d gone their separate ways, and Dean could admit – to himself at least – that it was gonna do him a hell of a lot of good to see Sammy.

He stretched, yawning widely, which turned into a sigh when he heard a rush of wings, felt hands on his shoulders. His eyes closed as Gabriel’s fingers dug in, easing some of the built-up tension from sitting hunched over books all night. “How’d it go?” Dean mumbled, already half asleep.

“Not bad.” There was a huff of laughter. “Kali asked about you.”

Dean grimaced. “Yeah?”

“Gotta tell you, jealousy suits her, but I think I like it better on you.” Gabriel’s hand moved, his finger tapping Dean’s chin.

Dean tipped his head back, scowled up at Gabriel’s smirk. Scowled even more when the archangel bent forward to kiss the tip of his nose. “’M not friggin _jealous_ ,” he muttered.

“Uh huh. That’s why every time I go off to meet with the pagans, you always get that adorable crinkle between your eyebrows, and you pretty much scowl – just like that, yeah – until I’ve suitably convinced you that I come home to _you_ for a reason?”

Dean’s eyes slid closed again. “Shuddup,” he bit out, and Gabriel laughed again.

“C’mon, babe. Long day, want sleep.” Gabriel tugged at Dean’s arm.

“Told you not to call me that,” Dean groused, but it was halfhearted at best, and he went willingly, content to let Gabriel snap the lights off as they moved through the quiet house.

They were just going past Conner’s room when he heard the whimpering, and they both froze. Gabriel’s eyes shone in the moonlight coming in through the windows, and he looked worried. “Nightmare,” he said softly, and hell, Dean should have expected something like that.

Dean of _all people_ should have expected something like that.

He pushed the door open and went into Conner’s room, heart squeezing at the sight of that face clenched in terror, the sound of those quiet noises that escaped with every breath the kid took. He was aware of Gabriel following him as he sat down on the side of the bed and placed a hand on Conner’s shoulder, but the archangel hung back, worried and watchful. They were both aware that, while Conner liked him well enough these days, Gabriel still didn’t have his full trust.

“Conner.” Dean pressed down gently on his shoulder. A quiet moan broke through, and Conner’s head thrashed to the side. Dean could see now he was covered in sweat, and he wondered how long he’d been dreaming. “Kid, c’mon, wake up,” he coaxed. “Conner.”

Conner’s blue eyes opened wide and he gasped in a harsh breath. He was dazed, not fully aware of where he was yet. “Meggy?” he asked, voice cracking.

Dean’s hand went to the side of his face, tilted his head so that he was looking right at him. “It’s Dean, Conner. You were having a nightmare.”

Recognition finally entered those eyes, and Conner’s whole body went lax. “Oh,” he said, voice small. “I…I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t,” Dean assured him. “You get nightmares like this a lot?”

Conner swallowed, looking away. “Used to. Not as much now.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, smoothing a hand over the kid’s hair. “Yeah, I know how that goes. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” Conner said, nodding fractionally. He caught sight of Gabriel, and his face flushed. “You didn’t both need to come check on me. ‘M sorry.”

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for,” Dean said firmly. “We were both up, and we both care about you.” He looked over at Gabriel, eyes asking for something he wasn’t even entirely sure of.

The archangel came over, standing on the other side of the bed, hesitant in a way Dean rarely if ever saw him. “Dean’s right,” he finally said, amber eyes locking onto blue. “No reason to be sorry. And people like us probably understand better than most.”

Conner bit his lip. “Angel’s can’t get nightmares,” he said, but he sounded unsure.

“Kid,” Gabriel said with a snort. “I wish like hell that were true.” He paused, swaying forward a little but not touching. “Hey, so, if you want, I can probably help you sleep. Nightmare-free, even.” He rocked back a little. “Not all the time, but when it gets bad enough. If you want me to.”

Conner’s eyes were uncertain, flicking from Gabriel to Dean, questioning. The hunter nodded minutely. “No better way to sleep,” he promised.

“…Kay,” Conner finally agreed, looking back at Gabriel.

The archangel reached forward, hesitating for a brief second before his fingers brushed Conner’s forehead, and those bright blue eyes slid closed as he relaxed into sleep.

Dean’s gaze met Gabriel’s, and he sighed, exhaustion taking over again. Gabriel’s face softened and he nodded toward the door, speaking quietly. “C’mon babe, time for all good little Winchesters to be in bed.”

Dean didn’t even have the strength to argue as he followed Gabriel out of the room. He paused at the door, casting one last look at the sleeping figure on the bed. “Night, kid,” he finally whispered, and closed the door gently behind him.


	8. How Much Love Inside a Friend

It was early July when Dean pulled the Impala up in front of Bobby’s with a fond look, and turned to glance in the back seat at Conner. “So look, Bobby can be kinda…grumpy, but don’t let that fool you. He’s awesome.”

Conner rolled his eyes as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I did hear him on the phone, y’know. ‘ _Boy, if you idjits don’t get your asses here soon, I’m gonna send a team of hunters up after you, an’ if you ain’t dead, you’re sure gonna wish you were,_ ’” Conner recited in a scary-good ten-year-old impression of the gruff hunter.

Gabriel laughed. “Kid, you got nothing to worry about. Bobby’ll love you. If he needs somebody to be grumpy at, believe me, he’ll be happy to take it out on me.”

That was true. Bobby never really had taken to Gabriel, which probably made sense. It wasn’t just Dean the chainsaw-wielding psychopath had gone after all those years ago.

“I dunno, he’s pretty grumpy at me right now, too,” Dean said with a grin. “I think you’ll be safe, Conner.”

Bobby was waiting on the steps when they made their way up to the house, and the first thing he did was engulf Dean in a bone-crushing hug that ended with a smack on the back of his head.

“Jesus, Bobby,” Dean muttered, rubbing at the spot. “The hell?”

“That’s for takin’ so damn long to visit. The hell good is it havin’ your own angel if you can’t use him to visit your friends?”

Bobby knew how Dean felt about travel via angel, so Dean was able to reply with nothing more than a scowl. Bobby turned his glare onto Gabriel and muttered something that could have been anything from “hello” to “get the hell off my property”. Knowing Bobby, it was both. Gabriel just grinned and fired off a salute, and Bobby’s eyes turned to Conner.

“So you must be this _Conner_ I been hearin’ so much about.”

“Yes, sir,” Conner mumbled, hanging back behind Dean a little, eyes downcast. Dean and Gabriel traded a slightly incredulous look.

“Y’like dogs, kid?”

Conner’s bright eyes raised, a hopeful smile crossing his face. “Yes, sir.”

“You promise to cut the crap with this ‘sir’ business, I’ll bring Remington out here. He could use the exercise, anyway.”

Conner was all but bouncing in excitement now. “Yes,s… Bobby.”

It didn’t take long for Bobby to bring out one of his overgrown, flop-eared mutts. The thing was huge and black and mean-looking…for all of ten seconds. One look at Conner, and he was on his back, tongue lolling out, looking for belly-rubs. By five minutes, he was letting Conner chase him around the yard, barking happily.

Dean watched with a grin as the kid laughed. “Goddamn but that’s a good sound to hear,” he sighed.

Bobby tilted his head. “He’s happy livin’ with you, ain’t he?”

“Yeah…yeah, but it’s still hard for him sometimes. His parents… He won’t talk about ‘em at all. Or about how they…” Dean paused, glancing at Bobby with a raised eyebrow. “Speaking of which, where’s your houseguest?”

Bobby gazed over at Conner, now wrestling with the dog, dust from the yard clinging to his every scrap of clothing. Something almost like a smile was tugging at that weathered face before he looked back at Dean. “He offered to be elsewhere. Wasn’t sure how your boy there would take to a demon, and no matter what side he’s on now, there’s no getting’ around that that’s what he is.”

Dean nodded, refused to feel guilty about practically forcing Crowley out of his own home for the next few days. Someday, he was going to have to bring it up to Conner that he was…well, not really _friends_ , but at least acquainted with a demon.

But not yet.

“So how are things really?” Bobby asked, reaching into the cooler beside him and handing Dean a beer. At Gabriel’s raised eyebrow, he reluctantly handed one to the archangel as well, and Dean rolled his eyes at both of them before answering.

“Good, honestly. Got Conner enrolled at the local middle school for the fall. Hell if that ain’t the weirdest thing ever, let me tell you.” He took a long drink, smiled. “It’s only been a month at the house and things are…they’re good, Bobby. They’re really good.” He and Gabriel traded smiles that had Bobby snorting into his beer.

“You two’re gonna give me nightmares,” he said, good-naturedly.

Dean coughed. “Seriously? _Seriously?_ That’s rich, coming from you.”

Bobby shrugged, uncaring, before he looked over to where Conner and Remington were still battling. “Boy, you want steak, you’re gonna help me set the table, y’hear?” he called.

Conner jumped up, was promptly knocked back down by the dog that may have actually been a small bear. His bright laughter carried over to them, had Gabriel grinning and warm sappy feelings winding their way through Dean’s chest.

Bobby whistled, and both dog and boy came running, making the older hunter smirk.

Dean let Gabriel lean into him, content to enjoy the time with his family, the family he’d made for himself, the family that maybe would never be blood, but was a hell of a lot stronger for what it _was_.

Love.


	9. With His Wishes Piled Around Him

“Hey, kid,” Sam said with a grin upon entering the house. He ruffled Conner’s hair on the way past, tossed the two wrapped packages he’d brought with him on the kitchen table. Ignored Conner staring at it with a tilted head and a confused expression as he leaned in next to Dean by the refrigerator and snagged a root beer.

“What’re those?” Conner finally asked.

Dean glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “The hell do they look like? Aren’t kids supposed to like, jump up and down and beg to open their presents on their birthdays? And I’m guessing one is from Bobby.”

Sam nodded, popping open his soda. “Yeah, dropped by there a few days ago, and he asked me to bring it by for him. He was sorry he couldn’t make it himself.”

“But…” Conner bit his lip. “How’d you even…”

“ _That_ would be my fault,” Gabriel piped up as he sauntered in, nodding a greeting to Sam as he tossed an M &M into his mouth from the bag he was holding.

“Gabe, seriously?” Dean asked. “You already know we’re having cake. A gooey chocolaty one. That you picked. Is the candy necessary?”

Sam snickered at Gabriel’s affronted look. “ _Duh_.”

“Fine, fine, sorry I asked,” Dean sighed, but he was hiding a grin.

Conner still hadn’t moved. He was staring at Gabriel like he’d never seen him before. “But I didn’t tell anyone… How’d you know?”

Gabriel’s expression softened. “Part of making sure all that pesky adoption paperwork got done, kid. I probably know more about you than you do.” He gave Conner a small smile. “Like we were really gonna let your birthday go by without making a big deal? Presents! Candy! _Cake!_ Come _on_ , Conner, you’re killing me here!” Even as he spoke, he was snapping his fingers, adding his own garishly wrapped present to Sam’s on the table.

The kid’s lips twitched into a tiny smile as he looked away. “Kay then,” he finally said, followed after a long pause by, “Thanks, Gabriel.”

“Pff, I’m in it for the chocolate,” the archangel replied with a wink.


	10. Free to Fly

When Dean finally caught up to Conner, the kid had already cleared the three-mile stretch of dirt road that led to their home and was turning onto the main route that would bring him into the closest town. He was walking briskly, backpack slung over one shoulder, t-shirt clinging to his skin in the humidity that permeated even the nighttime darkness of late July.

Dean might have called out to him, might have stopped Conner and demanded they talk, tried to reason out why the kid felt like he had to run away now. He might have done a lot of things in that moment, except that someone else got there first, appearing on the road just in front of Conner, and the sight was so unexpected that Dean stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide.

What was more unexpected was the kid’s reaction.

“ _Cas!_ ” Conner cried. The backpack was abandoned, flung to the ground as the eleven-year-old launched himself at the angel who’d appeared before him. Dean stared, completely dumbfounded as Castiel – looking the same as he always did in a trench coat and suit, with his hair messy and his eyes so ridiculously intense – knelt down to catch Conner in a hard hug.

“Conner,” the archangel murmured. “It’s good to see you.”

“I…” Conner pulled away after a moment, looking around like he was confused. Dean edged himself further into the shadows, out of sight, because damned if he wasn’t gonna figure out what the hell was going on here. “I’m not asleep.”

“No. No, you’re not.” Castiel stood, and somehow, though his eyes never went to Dean’s hiding place, Dean knew he was fully aware of the hunter’s presence.

“But then…you…you’re _real?_ ”

“I’m afraid so,” Castiel replied, smiling gently.

The kid took a step back, crossing his arms tightly over himself. “You’re an angel, aren’t you?”

Castiel inclined his head. “Yes.”

“How come you didn’t tell me?” Conner’s voice was high, edgy and on the verge of tears. “I thought…I thought I’d made you up, and…. You were my only friend, Cas!”

Castiel stepped forward, placed a hand on Conner’s shoulder as he fixed the intensity of his gaze on him. “When you prayed, that first night, I heard you, and I came to you as quickly as possible. What I found was a young boy who could not trust anything or anyone, because what had happened to him was so unspeakably terrible that he didn’t know how. I befriended you in the way I did because, until you could learn to trust again, it was the only way I could help you. I am truly sorry for my deception.”

Conner looked away, and Dean could see that his shoulders were shaking. “You…you told me to be in that alley that night.”

“I did.” This time, Castiel’s eyes did flick very briefly to Dean, his expression filled with a million things the hunter couldn’t possibly pick apart.

Conner looked up at him again. “You knew Dean would be there? That…everything that happened…”

Castiel gave another nod. “There is no one, on earth or in Heaven, who I have more faith in than Dean Winchester. He is my best friend. I knew you would be safe with him, just as I knew he would care for you as much as I did.”

“But why didn’t you just _tell_ me!” Conner cried. Dean echoed the sentiment in his head, loudly, knew Castiel heard him just as clearly when the archangel’s lips twitched.

“Because you had to grow to trust him and my brother – care about them – for your _own_ reasons. Not because I told you to. My job was to make sure you had a _chance_ to become the family you have. Not to force it to happen.” He paused, tilted his head. “Are you happy with them, Conner?”

Dean all but stopped breathing to hear the kid’s answer. Conner hesitated, then nodded. “I… I miss my family a lot. But Dean and Gabriel…they’re pretty awesome. I guess I’m happy.” He nodded again, more firmly this time. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then may I ask why you feel the need to run away?” The question was asked gently, but Conner still flinched.

“Because…because what if they go away? Or…or they decide they don’t want me around after all? Or…or…”

“Or what if you grow to love them, and they get taken away as your family did?” There was a hiccupping sob, and then Castiel was folding Conner in another hug, whispering something to him as the kid trembled in his arms. Dean’s heart felt shattered, and he leaned against the tree he’d been using for cover, releasing a slow breath. He watched as the two seemed to finish their whispered conversation, Conner nodding as his sobs eased off, pulling away very slowly from the archangel. “Are you ready to go home?” Castiel finally asked, loud enough for Dean to hear him.

Conner took a deep breath and nodded again, and with a touch to his forehead and a soft farewell from the archangel, he was gone. Dean didn’t move, not for a very long moment.

“Dean,” Castiel finally spoke. When the hunter forced himself to meet his eyes, Castiel’s were filled with silent apology. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”

Dean jammed his hands in his pockets as he finally forced himself to walk the few steps to stand in front of the archangel. He wasn’t _angry_ , really, how could he be? But there was a part of him that would always wonder now…

“I’m not sure how much I still believe in destiny,” Castiel said. “But I know, to the deepest core of my being, that you and Gabriel are what’s right for Conner. The family you’ve created is the best thing that could have happened for any of you. _That_ , I have faith in.”

Dean smiled, a little crookedly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Castiel’s return smile was honest, filled with conviction, and Dean believed him, couldn’t possibly have done anything else.

They were silent for a long moment, before Dean finally mumbled, “You’re my best friend too, y’know.” He flushed a little.

The archangel laughed, and Dean couldn’t help but think, _Yeah, I taught him that._ “That’s very…‘chick-flick’ of you, Dean. And…I’m glad.” He tilted his head. “Should I send you home now?” he asked.

“Nah, think I’ll walk.” Dean turned, picked up the discarded backpack on the ground and slung it over his shoulder before tossing a glance back at Castiel. “Wouldn’t mind some company, though.”

Castiel smiled again, softly, and fell into step beside the hunter as they turned onto the dirt-packed road that would lead Dean home. The silence was as easy and companionable as it always was between them, and they’d walked half a mile before Dean, without ever slowing his steps or looking at Castiel, finally whispered, “Thanks, Cas.”


	11. Missing Piece

She had hair the color of wheat that fell in soft curls down her back, impossible sea-green eyes, and pale skin. She wore a sky-blue sundress, torn and dirty, and her feet were bare.

Her name was Iris, and she was four years old.

“Jesus,” Dean said, staring at the little girl where she was huddled in the corner of Bobby’s living room. Conner was sitting a couple feet away from her, as close as he could get before she’d start wailing. He was talking softly, watching her very slowly relax as he inched closer every few minutes. The only other being she would let near her was Remington, and he was laying right next to her, his giant head resting in her lap as she stroked a trembling hand down his back. Dean turned back to Bobby and Crowley. “What the hell happened to her?”

Crowley met his eyes, the demon’s dark and angry. “Demons, lower-level ones who were working with high-level witches. By the time any of us knew something was wrong in the town, it was far too late for most of them. The things they’d done to her family were…abhorrent. The things they planned to do to her were worse.” His voice was rough, strained, and Bobby’s hand moved to rest against his lower back. If Dean noticed Crowley lean into the touch a little, well, he wasn’t going to say anything about it. Stranger things had happened than a demon needing comfort.

From where he was leaning in the entryway between the living room and the kitchen, Gabriel’s eyes flashed. “And where are these demons and witches now?” he asked, voice low.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. “Taken care of,” was all he said, but it seemed to be enough to appease Gabriel, because the archangel nodded once, his expression darker than Dean had seen it in a long time. Crowley turned back to Dean, lowered his voice. “She’s not spoken a word since I brought her here. If not for Rem, I don’t know that she’d even be lucid. He’s the one that got to her before they could cut into her.”

Dean blinked. “Remington is _yours?_ ” he asked. In the corner of his eye, he saw Gabriel’s mouth twitch and the tense lines of his shoulders eased a little. “You know what? Never mind. Not important.” He rubbed a hand over his face, turning to glance over at Conner and the little girl. Conner had weaseled his way another few inches closer, and Iris’s eyes were tracking him, but not stopping him as he kept talking to her in a soft voice.

“That’s the closest anyone’s gotten to her in hours,” Bobby said. “Knew calling you here was a good idea.”

Bobby’s call at three o’clock in the morning had nearly sent Dean’s heart rate through the roof. It had been a long time since phone calls in the middle of the night were a common occurrence. And the hunter had sounded as close to panicked as Bobby ever got, telling Dean to get his ass over there, and to bring the kid. Dean hadn’t questioned the order, hadn’t even made a single remark about traveling via angel.

“You sure she’s got no other family?” Gabriel asked. “Anywhere?”

“Only person we were able to track down was an uncle, lives down in Florida,” Bobby replied. “According to records, spends most of his time drunk or in prison.”

Dean’s eyes met Gabriel’s. The archangel answered with a nod before the question was even fully formed in his mind, and Dean released a slow breath before nodding back.

Gabriel pushed himself off of the wall and made his way to the other side of the room, stopping a few feet away from Iris before crouching down. Her eyes were wide, but she was gazing at him curiously. He wasn’t saying a word out loud, but somehow Dean could tell he was talking to her some other way. He glanced at Conner, nodding his head toward the door when he saw the kid looking back. Conner shot a look to Iris, then to Gabriel, before he finally stood and went outside. Dean followed while Bobby and Crowley made themselves scarce for the time being in the kitchen.

The air outside was cooler than normal, for early August. Conner was already sitting on the steps, his chin resting on his hand as he stared out into the night. Dean took a seat beside him.

Conner spoke first. “Is she gonna come live with us?” he asked. Straight to the point. One of the things Dean liked about the kid.

“Think so,” Dean answered. “She doesn’t really have anyplace else to go.”

“Just like me.” A month ago, there may still have been bitterness there. Now it was just a statement of fact. Conner didn’t resent where he’d ended up, and that was as good as a miracle in Dean’s eyes. “Crowley’s a demon, huh?” was his next question, unexpected, though maybe it shouldn’t have been.

Dean shot a look at him, one that Conner didn’t meet. “Yeah,” he replied. “But he’s not like the ones that…” He swallowed, didn’t finish the sentence.

“How d’you know?”

Dean leaned back a little. “He might not be at the top of my Christmas card list, but he’s always come through when it counts. And I trust Bobby’s judgment more than just about anybody else in the world. And Bobby…loves him.”

Conner shook his head. “I don’t get it. How d’you know he’s not the one that…killed her mom and dad?”

“Well, for one thing, I think she’d have been a little more upset, still being near him, if he had. And for another, you like Remington, right? And Remington belongs to Crowley.”

That got a surprised look from the kid, but then his expression turned thoughtful. “So like…how you and Gabriel told me some angels aren’t always good guys…not all demons are bad?”

Dean let out a slow breath. “I’ll be honest kid, most demons are things you wanna watch out for. But Crowley? Crowley’s an okay guy. I promise.”

Conner was silent a moment longer, then nodded slowly. “Kay, I guess.” His eyes went to Dean, skittered away. “I trust you and Gabriel, so…if you guys say he’s okay…”

Dean smiled, ruffled his hair. The smile widened when Conner batted him away with a scowl. “So, kid. Think you’re up for having a little sister hanging around?”

Conner’s gaze went to the door, and he nodded after a moment’s hesitation. “I was always the little brother before,” he said, voice quiet. “Might be cool to be a big brother now.” He looked at Dean again. “D’you think she’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, though he knew it was gonna take time. “Yeah, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about kids, it’s that they’re pretty tough. I think she’ll be okay.”

They went back in together, and Gabriel met his eyes from where he was sitting against the wall. Iris was curled in his lap, sound asleep, tear-streaks still staining her cheeks as Gabriel’s hand brushed through her hair gently. The archangel’s eyes were soft.

Conner pressed into Dean’s side a little, and Dean’s hand went to his shoulder as he continued to gaze at Gabriel.

“Let’s go home.”


	12. You Must Be My Brother

“So how’s she doing?” Sam asked.

Dean shifted the phone, cradled it to his shoulder while he put away his laptop and files for the night. “She still hasn’t really said much the last few days, but she seems to be okay. Little overwhelmed when Gabriel snapped his fingers and a whole bedroom appeared for her.”

Sam laughed a little. “I can imagine. But she’s holding up?”

“Seems to be.” Dean sighed. “I mean, she’s old enough to know something bad happened, but it won’t hit her the same way it did Conner, y’know? I think she’ll be okay. She’s really latched on to Conner. And he’s taken to the big brother role like a fish to water.”

“That’s good. For both of them, probably.” There was a jingling sound in the background as Sam parked his car and cut the engine, finally at whatever motel he’d stopped at for the night.

“So how’s the hunting life treating you?” Dean asked, without a single pang of the longing he’d expected after a few months of civilian life.

“Not bad,” Sam answered. “Last couple were tough, a nasty demon problem back in Detroit and a nest of vamps in Oklahoma City, but Cas showed up to help out. It turned out okay.”

Dean sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the archangel who swore he wasn’t perched on their shoulders. “Good thing. You up and die on me, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Sam laughed. “Whatever you say, Dean. I’m careful, all right?”

“Damn right you are. Bitch.”

“Jerk,” came the cheerful response. “All right, I’m gonna go catch some sleep. Take care, Dean.”

Dean hung up with a small smile, shaking his head fondly. No, he didn’t miss the hunting life, but he sure as hell missed his little brother sometimes. He glanced around the room one last time and flipped the lights off, heading upstairs, hoping Gabriel was back from doing whatever it was he had to do with the paperwork for the newest addition to their family.

The light was on in Iris’s room, making him pause as he reached the landing to the second floor. He relaxed when he heard Conner’s soft voice coming from the half-open doorway.

“I get them too, y’know.”

There was a quiet sniffle, and Dean crept forward, looking into the room through the crack in the doorway, out of sight of the two kids inside.

Conner was sitting on the bed, and had an armful of a trembling Iris. He was holding onto her tightly, murmuring about how it was just a nightmare, how she was safe here. Nothing would be able to get her, because she had a lot of people looking out for her now, people who could protect her.

Dean’s heart swelled as he watched the little girl slowly begin to quiet, the shakes that were wracking her body easing, tears tapering off as she pressed herself deeper into Conner’s hold.

“S’okay little sister,” Conner whispered. “I’ll watch over you.”

Dean’s mind flashed back to another room, another pair of kids who’d seen too much, _lost_ too much. Another older brother whispering almost those exact words to his younger sibling. Something in his chest tightened.

If he had any say in it at all, these kids would never grow up the way he and Sam had, the way Mary had before them. He swore with every part of his being, he’d fight tooth and nail to make sure that never happened. And thank God, he knew he wasn’t alone in that.

Iris was almost asleep, and Conner disentangled her arms and helped her back under the frilly pink covers on her new bed. When she made a murmured sound of protest, he leaned over and hugged her one more time, didn’t make a single move to leave. “You can sleep. I’ll stay right here tonight.”

Dean watched them for a few moments longer, until her breathing evened out and she fell under completely, and then he slipped past silently and made his way to his own room.

He’d let Conner keep his promise.


	13. A Quiet Place to Rest

Gabriel got home late, but Dean was still awake, lying in bed, thinking too many thoughts for the late hour. The archangel appeared under the covers and immediately snuggled his way into Dean’s arms, which had opened for him without thought.

“Mm, home sweet home,” Gabriel murmured. Dean smiled and dropped a kiss to the top of his head, which earned him a raised eyebrow. “You’re turning frightfully domestic, Winchester.” He leaned up, nibbled a little on Dean’s ear. “I like it.” He pulled back, waggled his eyebrows.

Dean rolled his eyes, unable to stop the grin from crossing his face. “How’d it go?” he asked.

“Oh, you know, a snap of the fingers here, a mild illusion there, a couple suitable distractions…” His lips curved, amber eyes warm as his gaze met Dean’s. “She’s all ours.”

Dean breathed out slowly. “Wish I didn’t have to feel guilty for bein’ happy about that.”

“Hey.” Gabriel propped himself up so Dean was looking up at him. “We both know if you could give those kids their families back, you’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“Damn right I would.” Dean frowned. “I wish Cas coulda lifted the rules, just once. You’d think…”

“The balance is so out of whack since the apocalypse-that-wasn’t, he really can’t.” Gabriel’s tone was too gentle, and if it had been anyone else, it would have set Dean’s teeth on edge. “People who are gone should stay gone, Dean. You know that, better than anyone. I know it sucks. It’s just the way it’s gotta be.”

Dean had heard the explanation before, and he got it, but that didn’t mean he liked it anymore now than he did then.

“You have no reason to feel guilty over being happy you can give those kids in there a home, and a family. And yeah, maybe it’s a little dysfunctional, but you know what? It’s a hell of a lot better than they would’ve had without you.” Gabriel tilted Dean’s head up with a finger, leaned down to capture his lips in a too-brief kiss. “We’re going to make this work, Winchester, and it’s going to be good. Got that?”

Dean gave him a small half-smile, pulled him back down for another kiss. “Got it,” he whispered against the archangel’s lips.

“Good.” Gabriel flopped back down, curling himself around Dean and nuzzling into his chest. “Sleep now?”

Dean grinned and shook his head a little, carding a hand through the archangel’s hair. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It’s been a long day.” He was silent for a long moment, listening to Gabriel’s breathing start to even out, before he spoke quietly one more time. “Hey Gabe?”

“Hmm?”

“Love you.” They didn’t say it often, didn’t _need_ to say it often. But tonight…tonight he needed to say it, needed to _hear_ it.

Gabriel didn’t disappoint, even half asleep as he was. He slipped his hand into Dean’s, wove their fingers together over Dean’s chest, and just as he was dropping into sleep, he whispered, “Love you too, babe.”

Dean was too quietly content to argue about the use of the once-hated term of endearment. He finally let himself fall into dreams with a smile on his face.


	14. Oh What a Day

Dean ignored the sun stabbing into his eyes at the ridiculously early hour and stared up at the school distrustfully. He and Gabriel had already done separate, thorough sweeps of the building and the surrounding area, and he had his suspicions that both his brother and Castiel had swung by to check it out as well. There’d been no sign of anything ghostly, ghouly, demonic, or even slightly supernatural, but that didn’t mean much, and the building was old enough to have a history.

In the passenger seat beside him, Conner rolled his eyes and grabbed his backpack from the floor. “Really, s’okay if you decide I shouldn’t go to school, y’know. I don’t mind.”

Dean gave him a dry look. “Yeah, I bet. Sam would have my head though, and little brother or not, kid can pack a punch. You apparently need ‘socialization’ and ‘a decent education’. So.” He waved a hand. “Get to it.”

Conner grumbled good-naturedly and got out of the car, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder and closing the door.

“Hey!” Dean called through the open window. “Any sign of trouble…”

Holding up his brand new cell phone, Conner grinned and rolled his eyes again. “I’ll call. Duh. Although I still don’t know why I need a phone with Gabriel around.”

“You really gonna turn down a free phone, kid?”

Conner appeared to consider this, then rapidly shook his head. “Don’t forget that I promised Iris she could come with you to pick me up!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, smiling. “Get!”

He watched Conner walk toward the school, passing through throngs of other middle-school kids as he made his way up the stairs and into the large red-brick building. The kid had been hesitant about the idea at first…. He’d been home-schooled by his mother for the last two years of his education, something he hadn’t told them, but that Gabriel knew from his records.

Still, after he’d given the idea some thought, he seemed to come around to it. Being stuck in a house all day with an ex-hunter, an archangel, and a four-year-old had to take its toll, and even if Conner had totally fallen for Iris in the weeks she’d been with them, it had to be a relief to have a chance to get away and be around kids his own age for a change.

Maybe.

Not that Dean had much experience in the way of making friends at school. But he thought it was probably a good idea, and it’s not like Conner would be moving around as much as he and Sammy had. Or at all, ever, if Dean and Gabriel could help it. So, since it looked like they were here for the long run, school made sense. He knew it, and Sam had drilled it into his head ever since they’d moved here, and even Bobby had brought it up once or twice.

That wasn’t going to stop him from running thorough background checks on the families of any friends Conner did make. Dean may have given up hunting, and he may be living the closest thing he’d ever get to an apple-pie life, but he wasn’t stupid.

He sat in his car, alternately glaring at the sun and glaring at the school, until the first bell rang and he was forced to admit that, probably, none of the students or teachers were going to suddenly sprout fangs and eat the kid. And really, even God himself wouldn’t be able to help anything that tried. Conner was about as safe as anyone could be in this world, and he was smart enough to call for help if he needed it. Gabriel could be there in less time than it took to blink.

As he pulled out and headed back toward home, though, Dean came to terms with the fact that none of that was going to stop him from worrying.

This was gonna take some getting used to.


	15. The Wind Blew Cold

It was early. Way too early for Dean to be awake, but he’d been restless, unable to sleep properly without Gabriel beside him, and Gabriel had left a couple hours earlier, summoned from sleep by a call from Kali.

Dean wasn’t as worried as he might have been, considering how much Gabriel had grumbled about leaving, and the slow, heated kiss he’d graced Dean with before he’d gone. If it’d been something to really be concerned about, the archangel would have been rushing and on edge, trying to cover it over with sarcasm and flippancy.

So Dean wasn’t worried. He was just restless.

Conner found him on the porch just as the sun was beginning to rise. He sat down beside Dean on the porch swing and folded his legs up underneath him, wrapping a blanket firmly around his shoulders to protect himself from the bite of the late September morning chill.

“Mornin’,” Dean greeted, running his eyes over the kid and taking in the dark shadows under his eyes, the way his jaw was clenched but still managed to quiver every few moments.

“Morning,” Conner replied, his voice subdued.

The corners of Dean’s mouth turned down. “What’s up, kid? Nightmares?”

Conner looked away, shivering. It took him a long time to answer. “S’Meggy’s birthday.” Dean released a slow breath, trying to think of what he could possibly say to that, but before he could say anything, Conner kept talking. “I didn’t…I didn’t _see_ them get her, not like…not like my mom and dad. They were…they were already dead before the smoke…the _demons_ …took ‘em over. And then she told me to run, and I listened, ‘cause I _always_ listened to Meggy. But…I heard…” He closed his eyes, fisted his hands tightly in his lap. “Meggy never screamed before, like that.”

Dean’s heart broke all over again for this kid who had managed to slide his way into their lives so easily. He reached around, tugged Conner to him, and Conner buried his face in Dean’s side, clutching the hunter’s jacket. He was shaking, trying to hold it all in and completely unable to, and Dean just held onto him tighter.

“Will it ever stop hurting so much?” The question was muffled against the leather of Dean’s jacket, so quiet he could barely make it out, and when he finally did, there was no stopping the tear that slipped down his face. He couldn’t lie, not to this kid, not after everything.

“You’ll think about it less, after a while,” he finally said. “But it’s always gonna hurt, when you do. They were your family, and you loved them.” He swallowed. “When my mom died, when I was a kid, people used to tell me she was in a better place, or at peace, or that she’d want me to move on or whatever. And I know how useless those words felt then, no matter how true they mighta been. They didn’t make it not hurt. Even _knowing_ they’re true now, it still hurts when I remember losing her. Or my dad. But…it’s better now. I can remember that my life isn’t what it would’ve been if things had been different. And no matter how much I miss them sometimes…my life is pretty damn good. I’m _happy_. And…yeah, they’d want that for me. So…I try to remember that, when it hurts too much.”

Conner didn’t reply at first, sniffling quietly and not letting go of Dean for long moments. “I miss them so much. I miss _Meggy_ …”

“I know,” Dean said, softly, bending to press his forehead to the soft mop of Conner’s dark hair. “I know, Conner.”

He didn’t even hear the front door open or close, but there were soft footfalls, and then suddenly Iris was crawling up into his lap, her little arms going around Conner even as she snuggled against Dean.

Hesitantly, one of Conner’s hands loosened from its hold on Dean’s jacket, and he wrapped an arm around his new little sister.

And slowly, Conner began to heal.


	16. Spin it Out of Gossamer

Dean wasn’t sure what woke him, at first. He blinked his eyes open and waited for them to adjust to the dark room. Took note of the empty spot beside him on the bed before glancing at the clock. Just past three in the morning.

Kid having a nightmare then, probably.

He rubbed a hand down his face and climbed out of bed. Gabriel’s spot was cold, which meant he’d been gone for a bit. Dean would just do a quick check, make sure everything was all right.

He passed Conner’s room first, peering in and grinning at the sight of the kid sleeping like the dead, wrapped around his pillow with his mouth hanging open. Conner’s nightmares had tapered off significantly, and it was a rare night when he got lost in one these days. Even Iris, who’d been with them for three months now, was sleeping much better than she had those first weeks. It was a welcome relief to both the hunter and the archangel who watched over them. It meant they were healing, and meant they were becoming more comfortable with their new family.

But then, he knew that just from talking to them, and from watching them.

Conner’s grades in school were on par with what Sam’s had been, and his teachers fawned over him. Conner pretended to hate it, shrugged it off whenever Dean smirked at him about it over dinner, but there was that spark of pride in his eyes too, the one he couldn’t hide, just like the half-smile he always wore most mornings when Dean dropped him off.

Iris was still quiet, too quiet, only speaking a few words at a time when prompted to do so. But she laughed more, and she smiled at all of them, and she loved Conner with a depth that would be hard to miss. She was getting there.

Dean paused a couple feet from her room, tilting his head because he thought he knew what had woken him now.

There was _singing_ coming from that cracked doorway.

Drawn to the sound, pulled forward like a moth to flame, Dean took a few tentative steps and pushed the doorway open just a few inches, just enough to see…

Gabriel was on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, his arm wrapped protectively around Iris, who was curled up with her head resting in his lap. His eyes were closed as he sang, his body bathed in the moonlight streaming in from Iris’s window. Dean couldn’t do anything but listen from the doorway, frozen in place by the sight of him, by the _sound_ of him.

Gabriel sang in a voice as melodic as it was otherworldly, as pure as it was breathtaking. Smooth and rich, and it flowed over and around Dean like honey, immersing him, immobilizing him completely. He didn’t know the words, could never hope to speak the language, but it was tenderly lyrical, an angelic lullaby. And some part of him, some deep spark hidden at the core of his being, recognized it, even as he was surrounded by the beauty of it and bathed in warmth.

This was Gabriel as he’d never seen or heard before. This was the Messenger of God, the being who had been created for Words and Voice.

Dean was awestruck.

Iris had already fallen back to sleep, but Gabriel didn’t stop singing, even as his eyes opened and he gazed down at her. His voice rose and fell, ebbing and flowing with the currents of the song. One hand carded gently through tangled blond locks, and as his voice pitched lower, he lifted those amber eyes to meet Dean’s.

As Gabriel finished the final verse, Dean held his husband’s gaze.

It was only in the silence after, when Gabriel quirked a smile and looked away, uncharacteristically shy, that the hunter found himself able to draw a full breath. He went to take a step into the room before hesitating, his eyes going to the sleeping child.

Gabriel carefully moved Iris off of him, standing to tuck her in and drop a kiss to her forehead, brushing her cheek with gentle fingers before he moved out of the room quietly. Dean followed him down the hall back to their own bedroom, closing the door behind them with a soft click and turning to the archangel.

He wanted to say something, didn’t even care how chick-flicky it was that he’d found the song, and the archangel who sang it, so beautiful…so _moving_. He wanted to ask why it was familiar to him, at the very least wanted to tell Gabriel how much he loved him. But he was overcome with _so much_ that in the end, he couldn’t say anything.

Gabriel took his hand, led him back to the bed and pushed him down before curling up beside him. When Dean would have tried again to say something, _anything_ , the archangel kissed his forehead just as he’d done with Iris, murmured something softly in Enochian, and Dean felt himself relax into sleep.

In his dreams, he drifted through a hundred other nights, a hundred motel rooms, a hundred times when an archangel had sung to him, keeping his nightmares at bay while Dean had slept unknowingly.

And the first time he’d heard it, when he’d been nothing more than shattered, fragmented, torn light and energy, fresh from the worst nightmare of all, when another angel had sung him the same lullaby, calming Dean’s desperate, broken soul even while he worked to heal him.

Dean wasn’t desperate now, wasn’t broken, but Gabriel’s voice drifted to him through his dreams, and in the corner of his mind that was aware enough to know what it meant, he thought the song had never meant more to him than it did right now.


	17. Mouth Full

There was nothing quite like the smell of bacon sizzling on the stove, and pancakes smothered with maple syrup on the table, and Dean inhaled both greedily even as he stared in shock – and not a little horror – at Gabriel manning the stove. “What’s all this?” he asked, warily.

At his tone, Gabriel stuck his tongue out, then hastily went back to turning the bacon over. “Kids wanted a homemade breakfast, I’m gonna give them a homemade breakfast.”

Dean’s eyes went to the table and Conner smirked, completely unrepentant. “Told him he wasn’t allowed to use his archangel mojo, ‘cause it’s cheating.”

From her seat across from her older brother, Iris giggled.

Dean blinked, and then looked back toward the stove. Gabriel’s tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth as he worked to time the bacon just right, and it was so adorable that Dean couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped.

Gabriel glared. “Oh, c’mon, I’m not _completely_ useless in the kitchen, geez.”

“Uh huh,” Dean said, crossing his arms and raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Besides, Conner wanted pancakes, and I figured we should start his winter vacation off with a bang. Right Conner?”

Conner’s cheerful “Right!” was overridden by Dean’s muttered, “It’s the _bang_ part I’m friggin’ worried about.”

“C’ _mon_ ,” Gabriel whined pitifully, snatching a plate to start piling the bacon onto.

“Gabe. You _do_ remember what happened the _last_ time you tried to actually cook something, don’t you?” Dean bit the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter from bubbling out at the archangel’s grumpy expression.

“We promised we’d never talk about that.”

“What happened?” Conner asked. Dean glanced back over with a grin, saw that even Iris was looking at them with eyes wide and bright and curious.

“Let’s just say that it took some of Cas’s considerable mojo to save the motel that day.” He looked back to Gabriel and snickered. “Actually, if I recall right, that wasn’t even _cooking_. That was a microwave.”

Gabriel dropped a plate of what Dean had to admit – secretly, and a little suspiciously – looked like picture-perfect bacon on the table before stalking back over to Dean. “Now listen here, Winchester,” he said, poking Dean in the chest and backing him against the stove. “Just because we can’t all be perfect little housewives in the kitchen doesn’t mean we’re not perfectly capable – _mmph!_ ”

Dean shut him up using his very favorite method, grinning against Gabriel’s mouth at the kids’ bright laughter. “Aww, s’okay sweetheart, I won’t hold it against you.”

Gabriel tugged him back in by the collar, kissed the smirk right off his face before releasing him with a petulant, “Hmph.”

Dean grinned again, watching the kids dig in with healthy appetites to their delicious-looking breakfast, before he leaned close enough to Gabriel’s ear to whisper, “So be honest, how much mojo did you _actually_ use?”

Gabriel’s answering flush told him everything he needed to know.


	18. This Yuletide Tale

There was nothing in his past for Dean to compare this to – the colorful lights blazing throughout the house, the gigantic tree standing proudly in the living room, tinseled and decorated with a hundred little baubles, the cheerful holiday music playing on the radio… Dean had never had this, not in any moment of growing up, certainly not in any of his adult years. The one year he’d tried to have any kind of real Christmas, it had been overlaid with doubt and fear and the shadow of Hell, and he’d never tried again after.

Without anything to compare it to, though, he was pretty sure that this right here was perfect. He was pretty sure he’d think that even if he had a _hundred_ Christmases to compare it to.

On the couch beside him, Gabriel was gazing up at the star on the tree with a grin, one hand reaching for and wrapping around Dean’s, the other running idly through Iris’s hair as she dozed on his lap. Sam continued laying gifts out beneath the tree, Conner seated beside him and reorganizing as he worked, piling the gifts according to who they were for, surreptitiously shaking the ones that had his name scrawled across the top. From the entryway to the kitchen, Castiel leaned, his hands shoved in the pockets of his trench coat, a quiet smile on his face while he watched Sam.

Eventually, Dean thought he might have to address that quiet smile, either to his brother or to the archangel, but for now, he was too content, too happy to move.

Iris stirred, glanced up sleepily at Gabriel. “Presents yet?” she asked, her voice almost painfully soft and innocent.

Gabriel’s laugh echoed around the room, and he bent to kiss her forehead. “You know you’re supposed to wait till morning, angel.” Dean didn’t remember when Gabriel had graced her with the nickname, but it always filled him with gentle amusement, and it always made Iris smile, so he never objected, despite the obvious irony.

Looking over, Conner gave his most innocent expression. “Iris and I talked about it, and we think we should get ‘em tonight instead, since Sam and Cas are here already anyway. New traditions, and stuff.”

Dean glanced at Gabriel. It was a valid enough argument, even if the kid _was_ partly looking to just score a day early. They’d none of them ever been much for tradition, and Christmas this year had already been tough enough on Conner and Iris, although they were both trying to stay cheerful. Those two were strong in ways Dean had never fully appreciated until he’d seen them wrapping gifts together with comic strip paper, a tear sliding down Conner’s face as Iris reminisced very quietly about last Christmas with her parents.

Gabriel shrugged a shoulder, shot a look over at Sam. “Whaddya think, Winchester? You and my bro up for eggnog and presents tonight?”

Sam looked to Castiel, whose lips quirked up as he nodded once.

“Fair warning,” Dean said, looking sternly from Conner to Iris and back again. “This means the grown-ups are allowed to sleep in tomorrow. No waking us up at five a.m. or there’ll be consequences.”

Conner snorted in the undignified way of eleven-year-olds everywhere. “Yeah, right. Like what?”

It was Gabriel who answered with a raised eyebrow. “Really wanna test it and find out?” His grin widened as Iris frantically shook her head at her brother. “Tell you what, you promise to let us sleep till ten – a nice respectable time where you two can keep yourselves quietly occupied with your new toys and Christmas cookies that you aren’t supposed to know the hiding place for – and we’ll all help you build a snow fort after. And Castiel can teach Iris how to make a snow angel.”

“Does Castiel even _know_ how to make a snow angel?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“I’ll have you know I’m quite capable of making a perfectly respectable snow angel,” the archangel answered, his voice prim, although the effect was broken when he outright grinned, his blue eyes sparkling.

Conner was suspicious. “There’s no snow yet,” he pointed out.

This was true, but Gabriel only shrugged, unconcerned. “There will be.”

Watching Conner and Iris hold a silent conversation with their eyes made Dean’s gaze go to his brother, and he found Sam already watching him with a smile, a lifetime of brotherhood flying between them in a moment, a lifetime of Christmases that maybe weren’t perfect, maybe weren’t bright and happy like this, but were still important because they were together. Always together, always _family_ , despite everything.

“All right,” Conner finally said. “Deal. But there better be snow in the morning!”

Half an hour later, as they drank eggnog and unwrapped brightly-colored presents, Dean thought he was the only one who noticed Gabriel’s soft snap, or the way his eyes glowed for a brief moment, or the way, minutes later, snow had already begun to pile on the window ledge.

Promise kept.

He didn’t think there was any better way to start Christmas than this, and he decided maybe they could be the kind of family who kept traditions after all. Traditions that for the first time ever, they had the opportunity to create themselves.


	19. Edge of the World

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing wearily from where he sat at the kitchen table. It was only six-thirty in the morning, but he’d already been there for hours, replaying bits of the fight he’d had with Gabriel in his head over and over again. Tense, angry accusations, pitched low so they wouldn’t wake the kids, until Gabriel had thrown his hands up and left in a rush of annoyed wingbeats.

It wasn’t like Dean wasn’t aware that it was a stupid fight. It was exactly what Kali had probably wanted it to be when she’d –

He couldn’t even think about it. God, if Gabriel had just friggin _smote_ the bitch, Dean probably wouldn’t even care. But whether he’d been too shocked – unlikely, this _was_ the being formerly known as _Loki_ – or just trying to be…diplomatic, or something, he hadn’t, and yeah, for someone who’d never had to deal much with _jealousy_ , Dean was definitely getting a crash course now.

No matter how stupid he knew it was.

He pasted a smile on his face when Conner came downstairs, tried to make it a little more genuine when Iris followed a few minutes later. He got up and made toast for them while Conner got down bowls for cereal and helped Iris pour. The morning routine went a little ways toward calming him, and when Gabriel appeared in the kitchen as the kids were starting in on their breakfasts, looking more tired than Dean had seen him in a long time, the hunter was able to look at him without the rush of anger he’d felt last night.

“Morning,” Dean said, his voice even, betraying nothing.

“Hey.” Gabriel, on the other hand, sounded _ragged_. Still, he ruffled Conner’s hair with a smile and pressed a kiss to the top of Iris’s head.

Iris looked back and forth between them, worrying her lower lip between her teeth for a moment before she reached over and tugged on Dean’s shirt. When he knelt down beside her chair, she looked like she was near tears.

“What is it?” he asked her, smoothing back a lock of hair from her face.

“Daddy, why are you and Papa mad at each other?”

Everything, including Dean’s heart, just _stopped_. Conner was gaping, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth as he blinked at his little sister. Iris, sweet, innocent little Iris, watched him through wide, worried eyes, completely unaware of why he’d suddenly lost all breath to speak.

Dean looked up slowly, his eyes catching and holding Gabriel’s golden-amber gaze. The archangel was standing rigid, his mouth hanging half-open, and, God, tears in his eyes, and suddenly Dean couldn’t remember why he’d been so upset, couldn’t remember why he’d spent half the night spitting mad at his husband for something that wasn’t even Gabriel’s fault. He swallowed, his heart pounding as he wrapped his arms around Iris, pressing a kiss into her hair as she clung to him. “I don’t know, baby.” He looked at Gabriel again, took note of the archangel’s still shell-shocked expression. _I love you_ , he thought, as loudly and desperately as he could. _I’m sorry._

Gabriel’s expression shifted, his eyes going impossibly soft as his mouth curved into a smile and he nodded. _Me too_ , the expression said, and Dean blew out a quiet breath as he released Iris.

Iris, who had, of her own volition, declared herself as _theirs_.

Their daughter.

Dean felt dizzy, and it was probably only Gabriel’s hand on his arm that steadied him as he stood.

“All better?” the little girl asked softly, her sea-green eyes steady on Dean’s, then on Gabriel’s.

“All better, angel,” Gabriel promised in a low voice.

“Good!” Her toothy grin was blinding as she hopped down from her chair. “Can I go play now?”

They watched her scamper back up to her room at Gabriel’s nod, and Dean shakily took her vacated chair.

After taking a second to collect himself, he finally looked at Conner, who was staring at the table, his hands fisted in his lap. “What’s wrong, kid?” he asked, although he was pretty sure he could guess. Gabriel was sitting down across from Dean, on Conner’s other side.

“I don’t…” Conner clenched his jaw, not looking up. “I can’t…”

“Hey,” Dean said, reaching out and placing a hand on the kid’s shoulder, squeezing gently until those blue eyes met his. “Conner, whatever…” He swallowed, still trying to reconcile everything inside himself as he fought to find the words he needed. “Whatever you call us…however you want to _see_ us…it’s not gonna make you any less a part of this family, you got it? We’ll never think less of you.”

“We brought you here because you needed a home,” Gabriel chimed in, “and we were just crazy enough to be looking to make one. Not because we wanted to replace your parents.”

“But Iris –”

“– is a lot younger than you.” The archangel’s voice left no room for argument.

Dean nodded. “As hard as it’s been, and as much as she knows she misses her parents, it’s still gonna be easier for her to let go than it is for you. And we don’t expect you to. There ain’t exactly a time limit on missing your family.”

Conner nodded slowly, stayed quiet for a minute. Then, “Do you…see us as your kids?”

Dean released a slow breath. “Well, yeah,” he finally said. “We care about you guys as much as we would if you actually _were_ our kids.” A pause. “Is that okay?”

Conner seemed to think about it, biting his lip. “I guess so,” he finally replied. “But…”

“It’s okay if you don’t see us as your parents,” Gabriel said firmly. “Won’t change how much we love you. You get a choice here, and it’s not one that you need to be in any rush to make. Got it?”

Finally, Conner relaxed a little, nodding. “Kay.” He stood, somewhat hesitantly. “I’m gonna…go get ready for school.”

They waited until he was upstairs, and then Dean slumped, exhausted in just about every way possible. “Jesus.”

“Quite a day, huh?” Gabriel said with a little half-smile, reaching across the table for Dean’s left hand, the archangel’s thumb idly tracing along the tattoo on his ring finger.

Glancing at the clock, Dean saw it was only just past seven. “Yeah. You could say that. Gabriel…”

“Let me take the kid to school,” Gabriel interrupted quietly. “You can take a shower, relax. When I get back, we’ll…talk about what I can do to Kali as payback.” His eyes sparkled, just enough to have Dean suddenly feeling impossibly calm. “Been a while Since Loki made an appearance, maybe it’s about time they all remembered who they’re dealing with.” At Dean’s look, he rolled his eyes. “Without bloodshed, I promise.”

The smile was tugged from him unwillingly, and Dean acquiesced with a nod as he stood. He made it two steps to the door before Gabriel was in his path, tugging him down and capturing Dean’s mouth almost greedily. Dean’s hands found Gabriel’s waist, and he all but melted into the kiss.

“I love you.” Gabriel spoke against his lips as he broke away, the words practically a growl.

Dean rested his forehead against the archangel’s as he caught his breath. “I love you too, you crazy, infuriating angel.”

Gabriel laughed, dropping his head to nuzzle Dean’s neck. “It’s really starting to all come together, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered, his smile full of disbelief and almost unbearable gratitude. “Yeah, it really is.”


	20. Songs of Scariness

There was a bright flash, so intense it illuminated their room for a long moment, causing even a hardened hunter like Dean to twitch a little. Seconds later, the crack of thunder that followed drowned out the sound of the downpour and caused the windows to rattle. “Can’t remember the last time I saw a storm _this_ bad,” he said.

“I can.” Gabriel’s voice was quiet, and when Dean looked over, the archangel seemed pale…sad, and a little frightened.

Memory sparked, and Dean could have hit himself.

_“We should hit the road, Dean.”_

_“In this storm? What, it’s –”_

_“It’s biblical. Exactly. It’s friggin Noah’s Ark out there and we’re eating pie.”_

It was the one thing they never talked about, what had gone down that night after Sam and Dean had gone. What had been said between two brothers before one had killed the other. Dean didn’t like thinking about it any more than Gabriel did, and both had been pretty content to move on with their lives after Gabriel was brought back, and they’d started to make something of the crazy feelings that were growing between them.

“Gabe…”

Gabriel grinned, a little forced, but he nevertheless curled into Dean’s side. “No depressing, maudlin thoughts tonight, it’s dark and stormy enough. I can put us in an episode of The Brady Bunch or Gilligan’s Island or something, if that’ll help.” He looked up, waggled his eyebrows, and laughed genuinely when Dean nudged him in the side, not gently.

“No. Thanks.”

“Your loss,” Gabriel said with a shrug. Another shock of lightning flashed, closer, and if Dean felt Gabriel press closer, well, he wasn’t going to say anything. He was just going to wrap an arm tighter around him and try to remember that Gabriel was here now, alive and happy and with Dean. Not back in that place, where he’d been cold and still, nothing left but an empty vessel and wings of ash.

Down the hall, he heard the sound of a door opening, and he raised an eyebrow. Iris was sleeping straight through the night now, more often than not, and she almost _never_ got out of bed, even when she did wake up.

A few minutes later, both Dean and Gabriel sat up when their door opened and the little girl peered inside. Upon seeing them awake, she pushed the door open all the way and came in, tugging Conner with her. Conner’s eyes were on the ground, his face flushed like he was embarrassed.

“What’s up, guys?” Gabriel asked.

In answer, Iris let go of Conner’s hand and _flew_ at the bed, leaping up and into Gabriel’s arms just as more lightning hit.

“Scared,” the little girl whispered. Dean saw she was trembling.

“Shh,” Gabriel murmured, wrapping his arms more securely around her. “S’okay, angel, I was kinda scared of this one too. You want to stay here tonight?”

She nodded against his chest, peeked over at Dean. “Okay, Daddy?” she asked tremulously.

His heart squeezed, as it always did when confronted with those sea-colored eyes. Someday, they were gonna have to watch out for that. He’d grown up knowing the power of the _eyes_. Sammy had gotten away with _everything_ using those eyes, with everyone but their father. “Course it’s okay, baby.” He rubbed her arm gently as he looked over at Conner. “Iris wake you up?” he asked.

Conner nodded. “Gonna go back to bed now.”

“Conner!” Iris turned wide eyes on her brother. “Stay!”

“Iris, it’s just a storm. I can go sleep in my own room.” He was tired and grumpy, Dean could see, and nervous from the bolts of lightning still hitting too close to the house. “’M not a little kid.”

Iris’s lip trembled. “Please, Conner?” she said in a soft, quavering voice.

Stronger men than the Winchesters would crumble beneath that voice, and Conner wasn’t immune. His eyes flicked to Dean as he hesitated, and Dean shifted to make more room in the center of the ridiculously large bed. Defeated, Conner finally slunk closer, climbed up. Immediately, Iris wiggled out of Gabriel’s hold and into Conner’s. The kid shook his head, but lay down and let her cuddle in next to him. His eyes went once more to Dean’s, tense and wary, but Dean gave him a small smile and Conner allowed himself to relax.

Both kids were asleep in moments, and Dean and Gabriel waited out the rest of the storm in silence while they watched over them and guarded their dreams.


	21. Meant for Only Me

Conner had been wearing an anti-possession charm since he’d come into the Winchesters’ lives. Dean had thrown it at him during those first few days, and after listening to a muttered explanation for what it was, Conner had pulled it over his head without further question, and hadn’t removed it since, as far as Dean could tell.

But Dean knew how questionable something as simple as a charm could be, how easily it could get lost or taken, and it had been in the back of his mind for a while that eventually, they’d have to consider something more permanent.

It wasn’t until Sam called, though, with a report about groups of demons who were specifically targeting kids as their meatsuits, that Dean figured push had finally come to shove.

He talked it over with Gabriel, who only nodded like he’d been expecting this conversation for a while, and then they both sat down with the kids and talked it over with them.

Conner’s eyes were dark, his face serious when he nodded. He understood the reasoning, the necessity.

...It probably also helped that he thought Dean’s tattoo was one of the coolest things ever.

Iris just looked scared.

“Will it hurt?” she asked quietly. Dean glanced at Gabriel, saw the way his eyes tightened. Angel powers or not, some things couldn’t be helped.

“It’ll hurt some, baby,” he replied honestly, picking her up and settling her in his lap. She snuggled against him instantly. “Like when you get shots at the doctor and stuff. It’ll just hurt for a minute, and it’s to make sure you stay safe.”

“I’ll go first,” Conner said to her. “That way you can see that it’s not so bad.”

She sniffed a little, her eyes wide as she peered at him. “Don’t want you to hurt.”

He grinned crookedly at her, his own eyes solemn. “This is important, Iris. And Gabriel won’t let it hurt for long.” He glanced over at the archangel as though looking for reassurance to back up his words.

Gabriel still looked tense, but he held up his fingers in a half-salute. “Scout’s honor,” he said. “No more than a minute, like Dean said.”

“I…” She stopped, sniffed again, watched Conner for a minute before finally nodding. “Okay,” she said, speaking partially into Dean’s chest.

Dean wished, with every part of his being, that the world was a safe enough place where they didn’t have to do this, where hurting their own kids wasn’t something they had to deal with. He held Iris close while Gabriel pressed two fingers to Conner’s chest, just above his heart, right where the tattoo rested on Dean himself. He tried not to see the way the kid flinched, biting down hard as the mark etched itself into his skin, or the way Gabriel looked like he wanted to vanish, to be anywhere other than here, doing what he was doing.

But better him than anyone else. There was no one else in the world _either_ of them would have trusted for this, and Gabriel knew it as well as Dean did.

It still sucked. It still _hurt_ , sharp and bright and digging at Dean’s soul like a razor blade, an analogy he had more right to use than just about anyone, because he _knew_.

It was over for Conner in seconds, grace-light flaring brightly around the mark and soothing it, and the kid let out a sigh of relief, slumping forward for just a second, just long enough to tell Dean exactly how much it had hurt him.

_Necessary._

Even Castiel had said so, had taken the phone from Sam and warned Dean that there were few prizes higher for a demon to go for than anyone bearing the name of Winchester, and even hidden from most supernatural entities as they were, even protected by an archangel, it was a pointless, stupid risk to take with their own children. Like Dean hadn’t already known all of that.

_Damn it._

Conner looked down at the mark, touched a finger to it gently.

“Okay, kid?” Gabriel asked, his voice rough.

Conner’s blue eyes found the archangel’s, and he nodded once, firmly. “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks.” It was pretty clear that he meant to thank him for more than just the healing. He was thanking him for the mark, for the _protection_. Conner knew too well what happened when a demon could crawl up inside someone, even someone you cared about.

Knowing that didn’t make it any easier for Dean to let Iris crawl out of his lap and into Gabriel’s. Didn’t make it any easier to hear her soft voice chiming, “Me next?” Definitely didn’t make it any easier to watch that look of guilt and self-recrimination slide into Gabriel’s eyes.

They’d already agreed on a different spot for Iris, somewhere the mark would be even less noticeable. Gabriel pressed two fingers to the place on her left hip. “Here okay?” he asked her, and she nodded slowly. “Be brave for me, okay angel?” Another nod, and Gabriel’s eyes flashed again.

Dean was already rubbing her back before the first whimper escaped her, before her head fell into Gabriel’s chest, one small hand clenched in the fabric of his jacket as she muffled her cries against him. Conner had moved to the other side, and was clutching her other hand tightly, whispering to her that it would be okay in a second, he promised.

When Gabriel finally released her, there were shadows in his eyes, sadness written in unfamiliar lines on his face. “I’m sorry, angel,” he said. “I’m sorry, but it’s over, I promise.”

She clung to him, refusing to move for a long time, and Dean could see the baffled amazement that crossed his husband’s face when she gave a small, hiccupping sob and said, “Love you, Papa.”

She pulled away before he could answer, tugging at the side of her pink skirt to gaze at the small mark. “Pretty,” she murmured after a few seconds, smiling, pain already ebbing into the deep recesses of her memory. She hugged the archangel again, then clambered off his lap to hug Dean, then pulled a bemused Conner from the room and upstairs, presumably to make him play with her.

Dean released a slow breath, glancing over at the still stunned expression on Gabriel’s face. “You okay?” he asked him, reaching over and lacing their fingers together.

“Yeah,” Gabriel answered, slowly. “Think so. Do kids…do they always have to be so…” He flapped his free hand around, at a loss for words.

“I think it’s an unspoken law, yeah. Sammy’s sole purpose in life was to surprise me when we were kids.” Dean scooted over, wrapped an arm around Gabriel’s shoulder and pulled him close. “You sure you’re okay?”

Gabriel rested his head on the hunter’s shoulder. “We did what we had to do. It sucked, but it’ll be worth it if it means one less thing to have to worry about. Least they don’t seem any worse for wear.” He snorted.

“Thank God for small miracles,” Dean mumbled sardonically. Necessary or not, he was tired of hurting people he loved. He’d had enough of that in his life, and he wanted to be done with it.

If only life could ever just be that easy.

Curled around each other where they sat on the living room floor, Dean and Gabriel fell into silence, while upstairs they listened to Conner and Iris’ bright, happy laughter.


	22. Out to Play

“Snow day!” Conner whooped, racing from the television set in the living room to the front window, peering out to see how much snow had accumulated in the ten minutes since he’d last looked.

Dean rolled his eyes from where he was putting breakfast together for the kids, and at the table, Iris smothered her giggles with a hand pressed against her mouth. Seconds later, there was a flurry of wingbeats as Gabriel popped into the room. “What’d I miss?” the archangel asked, snagging a slice of cinnamon-covered raising bread toast and taking a generous bite.

“Snow day!” Conner yelled again, bounding into the kitchen.

Gabriel gazed at him suspiciously. “You love school. Why are you this excited?”

Conner stared. “You’re really _not_ human,” he said, shaking his head. “I forget sometimes.” Gabriel blinked at that, his lips twisting upward as Conner continued. “ _Every_ kid gets excited about snow days. It’s like…a law or something.”

“ _Really_ ,” Gabriel drawled, smirking. “I feel like I should make you shovel, just to prove a point.”

Dean set the kids’ breakfasts at the table, turned, and flicked Gabriel in the ear. “No making the poor kid miserable on what will be the happiest day of his life…for the next week, at least."

Gabriel stuck his tongue out. “You’re no fun.”

“Pfft, I’m more fun than you can handle.” Dean’s lazy smirk had Gabriel eyeing him.

“Big words, Winchester. Gonna back ‘em up?”

Conner coughed loudly. When Dean looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, he smiled as angelically as he could manage, which really wasn’t much. Dean’s eyes narrowed, first on the kid, then on the archangel. He glanced out the window at the deep piles of freshly fallen snow, and at the big flakes that were still coming down, whipping around from the gusts of wind. His smile turned positively evil.

“Damn right I am.”

Iris giggled again. Conner and Gabriel exchanged a slightly worried look.

Dean plotted.


	23. I'll Tell You the Story

It was safe to say that Dean was ready for winter to be over. It was practically sub-zero outside, the coldest day of the season, even though March was just around the corner. Going out to the car that morning to drive Conner to school had been an experience Dean wasn’t eager to repeat, and he’d taken extreme pleasure in getting home, crawling back under the covers, and warming his frozen fingers and toes against Gabriel’s sleep-warm skin, much to the archangel’s distress.

Now, the late afternoon sun was slanting in through the windows of the living room, but it wasn’t that that was making Dean feel warm and content. It was sitting in front of the fireplace with his husband and daughter while they drew pictures and played guessing games. It was the smell of dinner in the oven and homemade chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter. It was waiting for Conner to get home from his friend’s house so they could all curl up together on the couch and watch bad television.

It was _home_ , and Dean couldn’t get enough of it. He wrapped himself in the feeling as surely as if it were a blanket. For all his griping about winter and the cold that came with it, he was _warmer_ these days than he’d been in a hell of a long time.

“Daddy, Papa, look what I drew!” Iris said, blinking her sea-green eyes up at Gabriel and holding up a piece of construction paper proudly.

Gabriel took it with a grin, his eyes sparkling as Dean shifted over to look at the picture over the archangel’s shoulder. Dean wrapped an arm around Iris as she snuggled in between them, and then he stared at her colorful stick figures with a lump in his throat.

She began to point out various parts of the drawing. “That’s me and Conner and Papa and Daddy,” she said, pointing at the largest group of stick figures in the middle. Dean choked on a laugh when she pointed at Gabriel, whose stick-figure interpretation had cloudy wings and a yellow halo. Gabriel turned long enough to stick his tongue out at Dean and kiss the top of Iris’ head fondly. She giggled and pointed at the two figures on the left, another of which had been given the angel treatment. “That’s Uncle Sam and Uncle Cas. And that,” she said, pointing at the three figures on the right, “is Uncle Bobby and Uncle Crowley and Remmy.” Remington didn’t look like much more than a blob of black with ears, and the Bobby figure was wearing a crudely-drawn baseball cap.

“It’s beautiful,” Gabriel told her in all seriousness, then looked at Dean. “Looks like we got our own little Picasso here, huh babe?”

Dean was grinning so hard it hurt, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “Looks like,” he agreed. “We’ll put it on the fridge to show everybody the next time they visit.” She had just enough time to beam up at them before they attacked, tickling her mercilessly and enjoying the sound of her squealing laughter.

“Noooooooo!” she cried, squirming away, her cheeks bright, eyes shining as she giggled. They eased up on her and she sighed happily, coming back to press herself in between them again, leaning against Dean’s side. “Papa, tell me a story about th’angels?” she asked, after she’d caught her breath for a minute.

Dean glanced up, but Gabriel’s grin was genuine, his eyes clear of the pain he sometimes felt when remembering his family and the long years he’d spent away from them. “Sure thing, angel. Anything in particular you want to hear?”

“‘Bout flying,” she said.

Gabriel’s expression became soft and warm. “Well,” he said after a moment of thought, “the first time an angel flies, there’s a celebration throughout all of Heaven, and all you can hear for hours is the sound of the other angels singing.” He grinned again, flicking her nose. “Your papa, unfortunately, took a while to get the hang of it.”

He launched into a tale about his exploits when learning how to fly, and even Dean found himself lost in the story. Gabriel didn’t share much about his past, about the time before Lucifer’s fall, about what it was like, what his brothers were like, what _Heaven_ was like for an angel. Being given this rare tale felt like a gift, and Gabriel’s eyes caught and held his more than once as he spoke.

Conner came home in the middle of the story, glancing at them curiously before coming to sit beside them as he flung his backpack across the room, and then even he was caught up in Gabriel’s rich voice and gesturing hands as the archangel continued to weave the story.

Gabriel was a masterful storyteller, and the sky was dark by the time he finished and broke the spell he’d cast over them with, “And that, kids, is how _not_ to teach an angel to fly.”

Conner and Iris were both regarding him with wide eyes, and Dean blinked a few times to get his own bearings, gracing Gabriel with a soft smile when he caught the archangel watching him. He stood slowly, stretching to get his muscles working properly again. “Who wants dinner?” he asked.

There was perfect silence for a long moment while both kids blinked at him in confusion, and then the fog cleared from their eyes, and they were bounding up and toward the kitchen, arguing playfully as they raced around getting the table set.

Gabriel stood, leaning into Dean as they watched Iris and Conner and laughed at their antics. When Dean wrapped an arm around the archangel and pressed a kiss to his hair, he decided that for the coldest day of the year, this really wasn’t so bad at all.

When Iris came up a few seconds later and wrapped her arms around Gabriel with a soft, “Thank you for the story, Papa,” the biting cold outside had never seemed farther away.


	24. Across the Great Heavens

“Heaven used to be a place of memories,” Gabriel said, gazing up at the blanket of stars overhead. “Happiest ones your mind could conjure, but it was…like a prison, almost.” His eyes came back down to Conner, who was fidgeting, playing with the frayed edge of the blanket they were sitting on. “It’s not like that anymore, though. Cas, he…that was one of the first changes he made.”

Conner looked up from under a fringe of dark hair. “What it like now?” he asked, impossibly quiet. He was warm where he was leaning against Dean’s side, and Dean’s arm came up around him, protective and comforting the way he always was – always tried to be – when one of his kids was hurting.

Gabriel glanced down at Iris, sound asleep now in his lap, as he considered the question. “Now it’s…peace. Contentment. It’s whatever you want it to be, really. You can think of a loved one, anyone at all, and instantly you’re there with them. You _really_ see them, not just a memory. Heaven is…it’s like being in your favorite place in the world, and feeling the happiest you can ever remember feeling, and knowing, without doubt, that you don’t ever have to be alone. You can make friends there, now. People wander, they talk, they laugh together and throw parties when they feel like it. It’s like…it’s like always being wrapped in _home_.”

“It sounds nice,” Conner said, cautiously, after a while.

“It is,” Gabriel assured him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. He hesitated, then said, “They know you’re safe, Conner. They know, and they miss you and love you, but they’re glad that you’re here and that you’re safe.”

Conner sniffed, looking down again. “How d’you know?” he asked.

“Cas and I…maybe bent a few rules,” Gabriel hedged, glancing at Dean. Dean nodded. Conner needed to hear it, and maybe it would help. “We…might have gone to talk with them.”

Dean felt Conner’s sharp intake of breath, and the way the kid’s head snapped up to stare at the archangel. “What? _When?_ Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Just today,” Gabriel replied. “After Iris told us.”

Because they hadn’t known. They hadn’t known why the bone-deep, aching bitterness had been in Conner’s eyes all day, or why he’d been resentful and angry and downright hostile to Dean and Gabriel since waking that morning. They hadn’t known why the sixteenth of March was so important, or why Conner had been hurting so much. They hadn’t had any way of knowing when he’d lost his family, how long he’d been on the streets before Dean had found him, because Conner had never told them.

They hadn’t known.

And as soon as they _had_ known, Gabriel had called Castiel, demanded he talk to him, and left in a flurry of wingbeats, promising Dean he’d be back as soon as he could.

“I…” There was a choked sob, and Conner hastily scrubbed a hand over his eyes, breathing harshly. “Are they… They’re really okay?”

Gabriel nodded, reaching into his pocket. “I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Whatever he withdrew was small enough to conceal in his fist, and he reached over and took Conner’s hand, opening it and dropping the item into it. “Your sister asked me to give this to you.”

In Conner’s hand lay a small blue marble with a smiley face drawn on it in black marker. Conner’s shoulders were shaking as he stared down at it for a long time, and when he finally closed his fist around it, tears were rolling down his cheeks. “I gave this to Meggy when I was really little. I…” He wiped his face using the sleeve of his jacket before looking back up at Gabriel. “Thank you,” he said, so soft that Dean, who was right next to him, could barely hear him.

Gabriel nodded, and then reached out again and tugged the kid forward, wrapping him in a tight hug. In his lap, curled against him, Iris stirred but didn’t wake, and Conner clung to the archangel for long moments. “I’m sorry I can’t do more,” Gabriel murmured.

Conner didn’t let go, only shook his head. “S’okay, I get it,” he said, the words muffled against Gabriel’s shirt. “ _Thank you_.”

Gabriel’s eyes closed, and he sighed a little as he held the kid close.

From where we sat watching his family, Dean released a breath and looked up at the stars spanning the night sky. His breath fogged in the air as he thought about his mom and dad. He wondered what it was like for them now, if they were together, if they were happy. He wondered if they knew where his and Sam’s lives had taken them, if they knew their sons were okay. He wondered if they knew about their new grandkids, and about Gabriel, and about Castiel.

He hoped so.


	25. The Language of the Flowers

Dean didn’t know when he and Gabriel had become the type of people that seemed like they should have a garden. In fact, he was pretty sure they _weren’t_ , when it came down to it, and that this was all some new and elaborate way for Sam and Castiel to make fun of them. Because there had been definite amusement in both of their brothers’ eyes when they had shown up on Dean and Gabriel’s doorstep with bags of seeds and boxes of bulbs and matching smiles on their faces. And now, here Dean was, sitting on the ground with his family while the two kids carefully planted seeds where Castiel was indicating they should.

He glanced over at Gabriel, felt a little better when his husband looked back at him with a baffled look and a shrug. On the other side of what had been deemed the “garden area”, Sam was smirking at him while he churned topsoil.

Dean glowered at his brother, now reasonably assured that this really was all an elaborate plot on Sam’s part to make Dean’s life miserable.

Still…

It was worth it, to see the way Iris glowed with pride every time she planted a bulb, or the way Conner was so careful about making sure his rows were perfectly straight, each tiny seed planted exactly as far down as it should be.

Secretly, Dean was maybe already plotting where they could build a pathway around the new garden and to the house, and where they could stick a bench or two, and what kinds of birdbaths or statues or archways would look best with the flowers Sam and Castiel had brought.

If his kids wanted a garden, you better believe Dean was going to make sure they had the best garden around.

Even if it did make him feel like a giant girl. And even if Sam was going to mock him into eternity for it.

Dean was just sitting back and wiping his brow with the back of his hand, the unseasonably warm day making sweat bead on his forehead, when Iris’ suddenly spoke up in her lilting voice.

“Uncle Cas?” she asked, not even lifting her eyes from the bulb she was carefully putting into the ground. Castiel looked up at her, his eyes patient and questioning. Not at all ready for what came next. “How come you and Uncle Sam never kiss the way Daddy and Papa do?”

Conner wasn’t quick enough to block the snort of laughter from escaping, but Dean was. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and watched as both Sam and Castiel went very, very still. Beside him, Gabriel was shaking with silent laughter, until he finally gave up and buried his face in Dean’s shoulder at the look on Castiel’s face.

“Uh…” Sam said, very eloquently.

“Iris…” Castiel’s voice was quiet, careful, treading over the young girl’s name the way a human would tread over a thin patch of ice. “Sam and I…do not have the same sort of relationship that your fathers share.”

She looked up finally, took in the expressions on the faces around her, and tilted her head in a disturbingly Castiel-like manner. “But…” She glanced at Sam, looked back to Castiel. “But when you two look at each other, it’s just like Daddy and Papa. How come it’s different?”

Dean’s shoulder was no longer enough to muffle Gabriel’s laughter, and even Dean was having trouble containing himself now. Conner was sitting with his hands over his mouth, his shoulders trembling and his eyes sparkling the way Gabriel’s did when something was greatly amusing him.

Sam was flushed, his gaze pinned to the ground, fists clenched in his lap, and Castiel… Castiel seemed unable to look at anything except for the hunter, all of a sudden.

Iris looked over to Dean, her eyes wide and innocent. “Did I say something wrong, Daddy?” she asked softly.

“No, sweetheart,” he said, letting her crawl over and snuggle into his side. “Not at all. You just gave your uncles a little lesson about denial and rivers in Egypt, is all.” Against his shoulder, Gabriel’s laughter peaked, and his arms went around Dean as he tried to find some semblance of control again. Dean smirked as Sam raised his head just long enough to glare at him.

Gabriel finally took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled away from Dean to look over at Conner, then to Iris. “C’mon guys, what say we give your uncles a few minutes to talk, huh?” he said, winking at his brother as he stood.

There was a definite tinge of pink in Castiel’s cheeks now as well, and Dean couldn’t help the wide grin he sent his archangel best friend as he followed Gabriel and the kids inside.

Dean and Gabriel, by mutual agreement, didn’t go far. They stood by the doorway, watching their brothers move almost unconsciously closer to each other as Castiel spoke in a low voice. It took Sam a long time to finally look up at the archangel, and when he did, there was no mistaking the wonder in his eyes, or the answering softness in Castiel’s. There was no denying the rightness of the moment when they leaned in, or when Castiel’s lips found Sam’s, or when Sam’s hand came up to brush Castiel’s cheek.

And it made perfect sense when Gabriel’s low voice murmured, “It’s not cheating when there’s a just cause,” and a finger-snap later, the newly planted seeds bloomed into flower around the oblivious couple.

Nor was there any surprise when Iris’ voice popped up from beside the window, “See? I told you!”, or when Conner’s answer was a half-groan, half-laugh that he couldn’t do anything to hide.

And if Dean felt like a giant girl, standing there and smiling dopily at his brother finding happiness in the middle of a garden full of colorful flowers, well, it was nothing to how Gabriel had to feel, since he was the one getting teary-eyed.


	26. Easy to Love

The usual bright blue of Conner’s eyes had darkened to storm clouds by the time Dean pulled up in front of Bobby’s house. Dean could see the tightness of his face even with the kid’s head ducked down in the rearview mirror. He shared a glance with Gabriel, who could only shrug minutely.

“All right guys,” Dean finally said, putting the Impala into park. “Everybody out.”

Both kids looked downright _forlorn_ as they unbuckled and climbed out of the car. Dean followed a half second later, but before he could watch them trudge up Bobby’s front steps like they were descending down into the pit itself, he stopped them with a hand on each of their shoulders. “All right, guys, what’s up?” he asked. “This is Bobby. You guys _love_ Bobby.”

Conner looked away, scuffing his foot a little, and even Iris stayed stubbornly silent.

“Guys,” Gabriel said, joining them when he saw that Dean wasn’t getting anywhere. “C’mon now, there’s no reason for the long faces.”

“You’re going away,” Iris finally mumbled, blinking back tears as she crowded closer to her brother.

“ _That’s_ what this is all about?” Gabriel said, kneeling down and pulling her to him. “Angel, it’s just for one night, we’ll be back before you even have time to miss us.”

She sniffled a little. “Promise?” she asked.

“Course I do. I’ll even pinky-swear, how bout that?”

Dean smiled a little as that pulled a giggle out of her and she held out her pinky finger, which Gabriel solemnly linked with his own before winking and dropping a kiss onto her cheek. One kid down, Dean turned back to Conner.

Conner crossed his arms, glaring sullenly at the ground. “Bobby’s cool,” he muttered. “But you’re leaving us with Crowley, too.”

Dean had thought they were past this, and he closed his eyes on a sigh. Before he could try and think of something to say, Gabriel was already standing, head tilted as he gazed at Conner. “Y’know, Crowley is like the cuddliest version of a demon you can find. Barely scary at all. He’s way more likely to ply you with good chocolate than he is to pretend to be evil.”

Conner’s mouth twisted into a grimace, his jaw set stubbornly. “He’s still a demon, and maybe you guys trust him, and maybe Bobby trusts him, and maybe the rest of the world trusts him, but I don’t.”

“He saved your little sister’s life,” Gabriel said quietly.

Conner’s eyes went wide as they flew to Iris. He hesitated, and Dean could see the wheels turning. Of course, Conner had _known_ that Crowley had a huge role in bringing Iris to them, but it apparently hadn’t clicked in quite that way, and to have an archangel – an archangel he _did_ trust – tell him so must have made an impression. “But…”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to find a single thing he could say against the simple fact, and Conner’s eyes dragged once again over to Iris.

“He was nice,” the little girl said, biting her lip. “He let Remmy stay with me when I was scared.”

They’d only seen Crowley a couple of the times they’d come to visit Bobby in the past few months, and usually the demon made it a point to disappear as soon as he was given the opportunity. Dean was a little surprised Iris remembered anything about that particular night at all, given what she’d gone through.

Sighing, Conner wilted a little. “Okay. I guess maybe he’s okay. For a demon. _Maybe_.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gabriel said with a grin, dragging the kid in for a hug that had Conner rolling his eyes. “And you already know that if he _does_ give you any problems, we’re less than a phone call away.”

Conner nodded, shifting his backpack on his shoulders and sharing a look with Iris. She grabbed his hand and led him up the rest of the way to Bobby’s front door. “C’mon, Conner, I’m thirsty!” she said when the laugh was dragged from him unwillingly.

The door opened, and Crowley himself leaned against the doorjamb, smiling at them a little. “Well, it seems you’ve got impeccable timing, love,” he said to Iris, winking, “as I was just about to make some lemonade. Perhaps you’d like to help?”

Iris nodded excitedly, her moment of angst by the car already forgotten as she followed the demon inside with a skip in her step. Conner hesitated on the threshold, throwing a glance back at Dean and Gabriel.

Dean barely had time to nod to him before Bobby came up, placing a hand on Conner’s shoulder. “Hey, kid, you been wantin’ to get a look at my library for months now, you gonna keep me waitin’?”

Conner spun around, practically bouncing. “Really?” he said, and Dean snickered, catching Bobby’s eye and smiling his thanks.

“Yeah, I reckon you’re probably old enough.” Bobby nodded at Conner to go in. “I can show you some of the more interestin’ ones while we wait for the girls to bring us our drinks.”

Conner’s laughter trailed out to Dean and Gabriel even after he was out of sight, and Dean leaned back against the car with a grin. “Yeah, they’ll be okay,” he said.

Gabriel smirked. “You kidding? They’re never gonna want to come home.” His eyes turned contemplative. “Although, given the plans I have for you tonight, maybe that’s not such a bad thing…”

Dean swatted him, but couldn’t hold back the smile, or the warm ripple of anticipation that he knew Gabriel picked up on. “So what are we waiting for?”

They both glanced one more time up at Bobby’s house, hearing Iris’ excited babbling from the open kitchen window and the happy sounds of Remington’s barks. Then their eyes met again, a warm and familiar look passing between them, and Gabriel snapped.


	27. Dreams that Come True

Two years ago.

Two years ago to the day, Dean had fisted a hand in Gabriel’s jacket, pulled him close, and whispered furiously that he loved him. The first time he’d ever really spoken those words and meant them to anyone outside of family, meant them so deeply that it had scared the hell out of him, meant them so much it was like a soul-deep ache.

Only an hour later, Gabriel had been dead.

Neither of them liked remembering that, of course. In fact, they both went out of their way to avoid thinking about it whenever possible. But remembering Dean’s words, remembering the harsh, greedy kiss Gabriel had answered with before going to face his brother, remembering how that had been a beginning, not the ending Dean had thought it had been… That was something worth remembering. Worth _celebrating_.

And here, in a large, decadent, nameless room somewhere on the edge of the world, that’s exactly what they did. They celebrated with soft touches and peppermint-flavored kisses, with words whispered against skin and heated looks that spoke of so much that words alone couldn’t say.

The day could have been filled with bitter, remembered pain. It could have been a time for tears, for grieving, for anger. But instead, they made it into a day for _them_.

“Say it again,” Gabriel demanded, the candles that were all around them making his eyes and skin glow, turning him into the ethereal, powerful being he truly was.

“I love you.” The words were effortless now, it was the easiest thing in the world to breathe them into Gabriel’s mouth as Dean pulled the archangel back to him.

Gabriel melted against him, wrapping Dean in his grace and his arms and his _wings_ as he loosened his hold on them. “And I love you,” he whispered back, and Dean felt the truth of it throughout his entire being.

The first time had been desperate and frantic in a hotel that had been claimed by Gods.

The second time had been broken and shattered in a cemetery that had just claimed his brother.

But every time after that, no matter where they were or how they said it, was nothing short of perfect.

Around them, the candles flared higher, angelsong filled the air, and they were gently enveloped in peace, wrapped in each other, bound together in grace and light and love.


	28. I Need Some Hugs and Kisses

Dean sighed in relief as the pain fled from his daughter’s face, Gabriel’s fingers pressed gently to her knuckles, mending the shattered bones with little more than a thought. It was cheating, and Dean knew it, but he didn’t think Castiel would raise much of a fuss this time. Learning to handle pain was part of being human, true enough, but the break was bad, and could have left Iris’s hand permanently damaged.

Also, Dean had rarely seen Gabriel look as scared as the archangel had looked when they’d heard the little girl’s scream from the backyard. He’d take a reprimand if Castiel decided to be douchy enough to give one.

Gabriel hugged Iris close, soothing her tears by brushing a hand gently up and down her back. “It’s okay, Angel,” he murmured. “You’re okay now.”

She sniffled, pulling back and clutching her hand to her chest as her eyes found the floor. “Hurt, Papa,” she said, her jaw quivering.

He kissed her forehead. “I know, but it doesn’t now right?” His eyes searched hers anxiously, softened when she shook her head.

“No. All better now.” She pressed into his side again, turned imploring eyes up to Dean. “Hug, Daddy?”

Like Dean needed an excuse to hug any of his family. He took two brisk steps forward and swung her up into his arms, holding her close, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Love you,” he told her. “And you were so brave, baby girl.”

She closed her eyes, pressed her face into his shoulder as the sobs tapered off. “Tried to be,” she whispered.

A look at his husband told Dean that the archangel was still shaken, but recovering. He made a snap decision. “Who wants fudge pops?” he asked, already heading over to the freezer though there was only an hour before dinner. “These things make everything better, right?” He shifted Iris in his arms, grabbed three from the box he wasn’t supposed to know about, judging by how far back Gabriel had hidden it in the freezer.

Iris giggled a little as she unwrapped hers, and Gabriel’s smile was both ironic and fond as Dean sat next to him on the floor and gave him one. “Conner’s gonna be jealous,” Iris said happily as she licked at the chocolate. She squirmed a little, settled into Dean’s lap.

“Well, we’ll just have to let it be our little secret,” Dean said with a wink. “Or I’ll let him sneak an extra Oreo with his dinner.” He took a bite of his own treat, smiled softly at his husband. “You okay, babe?”

Gabriel nodded, crawling over to give Dean a quick chocolate-flavored kiss and to ruffle Iris’s hair.

“Sorry I scared you, Papa,” she mumbled around her mouthful of chocolate. Wide sea-green eyes blinked up at him.

“S’okay, Angel,” he replied, releasing a soft breath. “Just…next time, let’s save the tree climbing for when your Dad or I can keep an eye out, huh? Almost gave me a heart attack.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Angels don’t get heart attacks.”

He ran a hand through her hair, his mouth quirking again. “Most angels don’t have a reason. I’m lucky enough to have lots. So no more scaring your old man like that, huh?”

“I promise, Papa. I’ll try.” She took another chomping bite out of her fudge bar, cuddled further into Dean’s arms as Gabriel leaned over and kissed them both again.

Dean sighed softly. Another crisis averted.

He finished off his own fudge pop, and proceeded to steal the rest of Gabriel’s as well, smiling to himself when it prompted a cry of outrage, and then a sharp bark of laughter from the archangel.


	29. I'll Wait for You Here

A pocket of light, he’d once thought of it, resting so close to his heart that they might as well be one. The bond he and Gabriel had, the bond that made them more than just married, the bond that made them _each other’s_. It had been a while since Dean had really focused on that bond, a while since he’d felt the need to explore it. He’d been taking it for granted, especially the past year, the way Gabriel had been around most of the time, the way he’d grown used to the soul-deep connection between them.

A connection full of possibilities that he’d never explored, that he didn’t know _how_ to explore.

But he was focused on it now, had been desperately focused on it since Castiel had appeared in a flurry of wingbeats, expression intense, begging Gabriel for his help. A small band of angels gone rogue in Heaven, led by Raphael. That was what Dean had been able to pick out of the conversation. Fighting amongst their brothers, mayhem Castiel needed to contain quickly.

And only one brother he trusted to help him.

Gabriel had gone, of course. Had traded a look with Dean that expressed so much and so little and _everything_ and _nothing_ , and had begged him to understand. Had hugged the kids hard and promised them he’d be back as soon as he was able. Had held Dean for long moments before taking his hand, bringing it to his lips, pressing the softest of kisses to the band of enochian on his finger.

Had whispered _I love you_ , and it had sounded like a song, like a promise, like a prayer.

And then he’d left, unfurling his wings and following Castiel and leaving nothing but empty air where he’d been standing…

…and a pocket of light in Dean’s soul.

Dean trusted his husband enough to come back to him in one piece, and he trusted his best friend enough to make sure Gabriel was able to. He trusted them _both_ to watch out for each other, because that was what they did.

But until then, he was going to cling to that light with everything he had, and pray.


	30. A Star in My Moon-Catchin' Net

It took Sam a few days to make the drive from wherever he’d been hunting to Dean’s, but he was here now, thank God, sitting in the kitchen brooding over a mug of coffee and absentmindedly rubbing his wrist while Dean made breakfast for the kids.

It had been a week since Gabriel and Castiel had left, and Dean knew that Sam probably wasn’t dealing much better than he was. There was some comfort in that, in knowing he wasn’t alone in his worry or his eagerness to have the angels home.

There was comfort, too, in knowing without doubt that those angels _wanted_ to be home, that they considered _this_ – earth – their home now.

Now if only the winged bastards would hurry up and _get_ here.

“You hurt yourself on that last hunt?” Dean asked, frowning over at his brother as he scrambled eggs.

Sam visibly jolted and turned to look at Dean with wide, too-innocent eyes. “What? No!” He very noticeably stopped rubbing at his wrist, took a deep breath and released it slowly. “No,” he said again, more calmly this time, and his eyes went back to the dark liquid in front of him as his shoulders hunched.

“Uh huh.” Dean scooped the eggs onto two plates, called for Iris and Conner to get their butts downstairs before Conner was late, and plopped himself in the chair next to Sam’s, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

“Dean…”

He was gentle enough taking Sam’s wrist that the younger man could have pulled away easily if he really wanted to, but it was a testament to how far they’d come since the apocalypse that he didn’t. His eyes just turned resigned as Dean folded back the flannel sleeve and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Sammy…” Dean didn’t know how he recognized the angelic symbols for faith, trust, and love that formed a triquetra just above Sam’s wrist, but it didn’t really matter. He knew what it meant, what the tattoo really symbolized. “Damn it, Sam, when?”

“When he realized he was going to have to leave,” Sam mumbled. “We’d talked about it, a little, but… I wouldn’t let him go without… I just couldn’t, Dean.”

Dean breathed out slowly and tugged Sam into a crushing embrace. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” He gripped tighter, shook his head just a little. “But I’m happy for you guys. Congrats, little brother.”

He felt Sam’s tiny smile against his neck, and forced himself to release him before they both got choked up. This was enough of a chick-flick moment as it was without adding in waterworks. He gathered himself just as Iris and Conner trooped into the kitchen and snatched their plates from the counter, chattering happily.

“What’s got you guys in such a good mood?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. Not that he was complaining. They’d been pretty much _miserable_ since Gabriel had left, quiet and reserved and so unlike themselves that it had made Dean’s heart hurt even more than it already had just with the archangel's absence.

Now though, Iris _beamed_ at him as she hoisted herself into Sam’s lap without so much as a _by-your-leave_. “Papa’s coming home soon,” she declared, and Dean’s throat clenched. A quick glance showed that Sam was similarly affected.

“How do you know that, baby girl?” he asked her, reaching over to run a hand through her hair.

It was Conner, seated on the other side, who answered with a grin. “When we woke up, we both smelt peppermint.”

Something in Dean loosened, allowing him to really breathe for the first time in days, and Sam’s sudden smile was blinding.

The pocket of light Dean carried around inside of him warmed and glowed brightly.

His angel was coming home.


	31. Where the Rainbow Ends

The sound of wingbeats, the amber gaze, the familiar smile…it was the sun coming out in Dean’s world. He was out of his chair and in Gabriel’s arms between one breath and the next, laughing and crying and he didn’t even care… _couldn’t_ care because Gabriel was _here_ …he was _home_.

“Missed you too, babe,” the archangel whispered, holding tightly. For a moment, Dean was sure he felt something brush against his back, something like wings, and he trembled, caught up in emotions he had no name for.

Distantly, he was aware of Sam and Castiel’s reunion on the other side of the room, bright and happy and full of love, and it warmed him, knowing they were all here. Safe. Together.

“Hell if I’m ever letting you leave again,” he mumbled into Gabriel’s hair. He breathed in the smell of peppermint, tried to hold it in as long as he could.

“I’m cool with that.” Gabriel leaned up and brushed a kiss against Dean’s neck, sighing softly. “S’good to be home.”

“Papa!”

Dean laughed again, turning in Gabriel’s arms to see Iris and Conner come into the living room, and then Iris was running, leaping, and Gabriel had just barely enough time to step forward and catch her in his arms and spin her happily. “There’s my angel!” He grinned, hugging her close for a moment and then opening an arm for Conner, squeezing him tightly when the kid wrapped his arms around him.

Conner buried his face against Gabriel’s side. “Hi,” he mumbled, his voice wavery. “Glad you’re back. We were all kinda worried.”

“I’m glad I’m back too,” Gabriel replied, closing his eyes for a moment and squeezing both of the kids tighter.

Dean wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes now, and when Gabriel’s watery gaze met his, all he could do was press his forehead to the archangel’s for a long moment before kissing him deeply.

Across the room, Sam, in the arms of his own angel, caught his eye and smiled softly. Castiel’s gaze, too, was fond, and Dean blushed and just held his family tighter.

In his chest, the pocket of light he carried grew wings and soared, and Dean was caught up with it, flying high on the feeling of so much love surrounding him.

“Missed you guys way too much,” Gabriel said after a long moment, quirking a more characteristic grin. “Heaven’s so boring without you two there!”

Conner smiled, pressed himself closer into Gabriel’s side as Iris shifted in the archangel’s arms so that she could reach out for Dean. He allowed himself to be brought even closer so that he was cuddling her and Conner between him and Gabriel.

Conner’s voice, when he spoke a moment later, was soft.

“We missed you too, Dad.”


End file.
